And Shepherds We Shall Be
by Shmeowzow
Summary: Their story began before all of the others; before Boston, and before the MacManus brothers became The Saints. In Ireland, they were just a couple of boys. Her boys. Romance/Dramady between Connor/OC/Murphy. NOT SLASH! Rated M for sexual content/language
1. And Shepherds we shall be

The girl tossed and turned in her sleep. Dreams of her past and her once happy family home had haunted her every sleeping hour for the past 6 years. She gasped and shot up in her bed drenched in a cold sweat, greeted only by the orange and purple sunrise that had begun to peak at her through her bedroom window. Her nightmares has been so vivid…

"Shit." She murmured, bringing her hands to her face and neck, attempting to wipe away the tears and perspiration that were still lingering. Taking a deep breath, and attempting to forget all of the things she had dreamt, She untangled herself from her sheets and placed her feet on the hardwood floor before slowly standing up and stretching all of the sleep out of her 5ft 125lb frame.

The old flooring creaked under her bare feet as she carried herself across the room to open the window and let some of the cool, moist, morning air in. She stuck her head out briefly and took a look around the pasture outside. A smile lit up the girl's face as her gaze settled on two figures in the distance, making their way towards the little cottage on the hill that they all lived on.

After closing the window so insects wouldn't get into her room, she stepped in the shower for a quickie so she would be able to start breakfast before the boys made it back home from the pasture. Afterwords, she dried off and swept her long, damp red hair into a ponytail and pulled on a pair of hand-me-down jeans and a V-neck white shirt.

The girl then exited the cottage out the back door to gain access to the small garden she kept. The morning sun shone a little higher in the sky now, and it gleamed off of the little rows of vegetables, making them seem unnatural in color. She crouched on her haunches and pulled a few stray weeds from the earth before discarding them into a large pile of already decaying weeds a few feet from the garden. She would have to go dispose of the pile soon, it was getting too large.

She stood on her tip-toes to pull a cutting board down from the high shelf it was kept in, and proceeded to dice the tomatoes, peppers, and eggplant she had harvested. "Too bad it's too warm to grow good onions." She murmured to herself before tossing the medley of fresh veggies into the pan to simmer. Just as they were beginning to brown, there was a commotion at the front door as two pairs of heavy feet came down on the floor.

"I bet ye she's not even out'o bed yet, de lazy arse." The heavy footsteps plodded closer to the kitchen. "Y're probably righ'. We get up at the crack of dawn e'rey mornin' to work our asses off on ole Buckley's farm, while she just snoozes her pretty little head off." Now they were just trying to make her mad. She turned around to face the two rough and tumble Irish twins she had come to know and love more that anyone in the world. Crossing her arms over her chest she said. "G'morning Connor, Murph" And glared at them in jest as she said each of their names. They exchanged glances and grinned. "Mornin' Chrys." They said in unison. Connor set down the basket of eggs he had been holding and walked over to place a kiss on Chrysanthemum's left cheek. "Don't worry darlin', we weren' talkin' about you or nothin'." he said putting his arm around her. Murphy set the basket he had been holding down as well, which contained a small loaf of bread and two jars of milk. "Aye." He said, making his way over as well and placing an identical kiss on her right. "We were jus' discussin' that other girl that we keep tied up in the basement. She's so lazy!" Chrys thwacked both of them on the side of the head. "You two are the biggest pair of idiots."

"Aye." Connor said. "But you love us though."

"Too right." Murphy added. "Why else would you have been cookin' and keepin' after us all these years?" Chrys rolled her eyes and grabbed a few eggs out of the basket Connor had set down and began mixing them with milk to add to the browning vegetables for a nice omelet. The boys kicked their boots off and set them on the rug outside the door, then sat themselves down at the kitchen table.

"How are the Buckley's dis mornin'?" Chrys asked as she cooked. "Just as fine as ever." Connor said, getting two mugs from a cabinet and pouring some old coffee into them that had been warming on the stove. He set one mug down in front of his brother, and added milk to his before taking a swig of it. "I think their daughter's got a crush on ole' Murph though." He added, trying to suppress the laughter that was threatening. Murphy glared at him. "Shut it, will ya? She's a right troll." Chrys turned from her work and tossed a hunk of eggshell at his head. "That's so mean Murphy! She's not so bad. You should take 'er out." Connor was unable to contain himself and began to laugh uncontrollably. "Yeah Murph. Why doncha take 'er out for a bite?" He managed to stammer out between fits. "Shut up ass! Why don't you take 'er then!" Chrysanthemum turned off the burner and watched the brothers' exchange in amusement. "Because she doesn' like me Murph, she only has eyes for you!" Connor waved his hand in the air and imitated a high girlish voice. "Oh Murphy, please help me lift this heavy bucket! Murphy, I dropped my beret under the sink! Wont you bend down and get it for me?"

Murphy lunged across the table and began pummeling his brother with his fists. "I'm going te beat you within an inch of your bloody life!"

"Alright boys that's enough!" Chrys grabbed Murphy's shoulder's and dislodged his hands from Connor's throat, then smacked Connor upside the head. "Ow! What was dat fer?" She pointed at him, warning. "Connor, don' tease your brother. Murhp," She turned and smacked him as well. "Don't attack yours."

"Ow! Fuck, he started it!" She rolled her eyes and began serving them the omelet she had prepared, slicing some bread for herself and sitting down. "I swear, sometimes I feel like your mum needs to send me a check for babysittin' the two of you."

"Aye." Connor said. "Why d'ya think she moved out?"

Chrys sent the boys back off to the Buckley's farm to finish up their work after breakfast. Meanwhile, she cleared the dishes and cleaned the spilled coffee up off of the floor. While Chrys was doing the boys' laundry and making their beds for them, she happened upon the calendar in the den. According to it, today was June 20th. She sat down on Murphy's bed and let out a sigh. How could she have forgotten what today was? It was the day that had changed her life forever.

6 years ago today, The Flynn family's farm burned to the ground, taking all residents but one with it. It had once stood just a few miles down the hill from the MacManus' cottage. Chrysanthemum had lived there with her mother and father, one older brother and a younger sister as well. She had been a mere 13 when the tragedy took place. She awoke coughing to a room full of flames. The fire consumed everything. Her clothes, her toys, everything. Flames were licking dangerously close to her own body as her older brother tried to break down her door to get her out. She was too scared to move and could do nothing but curl up on her bed until she passed out from smoke inhalation. The last thing she remembered hearing was her family screaming for her before everything went black.

She blurred in and out of consciousness over the next hour or so. Broken glass. Footsteps. Cursing. She felt herself being lifted by two pairs of arms. The cold grass on her back, wet with morning dew. Being shaken. More voices. Finally she willed her eyes to flutter open. They stung and watered from heat and smoke. They finally focused on the two figures leaning over her. "I think she's dead." One murmured. "Shut up! No she ain't. She's breathing."

"You're fucking hallucinatin'!"

"You are!"

The two figures jumped into a manmade melee and began to wrestle, cursing at each other. Chrysanthemum slowly propped herself on one elbow and rubbed her eyes. She surveyed the destruction before her young eyes. The whole farm had been reduced to nothing but smoldering black wood and ashes. The barn. The crops. Her house. She began to slowly realize the gravity of the situation. "Where's my mom?" she turned to the two boys in front of her. They stopped their scuffle and turned their attention to her. "Holy fuck, yer alive?" Connor exclaimed. "Shut the fuck up Conn! She a little girl don't curse in front of her!" Connor smacked Murphy. "You just cursed you nut-" Chrys cut them off. "Where are my mom and dad? Where's my sister! Where's my brother, where are they!" Her lip began to tremble and she let out a small hiccup of a sob. The boys looked at each other, and looked back at her. One after the other they rose to their feet and came to stand in front of Chrys, helping her to her own. "Come on lass." Connor said. "Aye." Said Murphy. "You're comin' home wit us."

They took her to the home they shared with their mother and had taken care of her ever since. They shared their home, food, and even clothes with her. Any clothes she's had were destroyed in the fire. Their mother had become much like a surrogate mother to her.

Mrs. MacMnus had moved out some two years later after she retired to get some peace and quiet away from her sons, leaving them to Chrysanthemum. "I know you can handle 'em lass." Their mom had told her before she left. "Promise me ye'll take care of me boys?"

"I promise, mum." Chrys said, kissing her on the cheek. Another four years passed and here she was, crouched on Murphy's bed, crying her eyes out. Her whole family had died in the blaze, the boys had only made it in time to save her life, queued that something was wrong by the smoke in the early morning sky and the smell of fire. She'd spent those last six years trying to make it up to them. She had begun to love them both in a way that scared her sometimes. They were all she had. If anything happened to them or they ever left…The thought gave her goose bumps. She wouldn't be able to handle life without them. She let out one more sob-ridden breath and wiped her eyes with one of Connor's dirty shirts. Before getting up to finish the laundry.

After Chrys had done the day's chores and dinner was almost ready, the boys busted in the front door and each grabbed one side of her from behind, covering her eyes with their free hands. "We've got a surprise for ye, love." Murphy whispered in her ear, while Connor turned her around and presented a freshly baked blackberry pie. Her favorite. She smiled to fight back the oncoming flood of emotion. They remembered. They knew what day it was, and they were trying to ease the pain in the way only they could.

Chrysanthemum hugged them both around the neck and kissed their foreheads. "I love my boys." Connor set the pie down and wrapped his arms around her, laying his head on her left shoulder, while Murphy held her from the back and let his head rest on her right. "We love you too Chrys." Murphy said. "Aye love. We couldn't get on without yeh." Connor said, agreeing with his twin.


	2. Tides a' changin'

Things had been going just fine for Chrysanthemum and her boys, as they always had. Two more seasons had passed them by. The boys sat down to supper after a long day's work, and together they finished saying grace, and began eating. Chrysanthemum picked at her food, discontented. After watching them silently shovel their food in to their mouths, she decided to bring to light an oddity she had come to notice of late.

"What's going on?" The brothers raised their gazes to her face in unison, then shared a look with each other before Connor spoke up. "What're ye talkin' about sweet'eart?" She could tell by the looks on both of their faces that there was something they weren't telling her, and it was bugging her to no end. They'd been acting off for at least a week. They didn't joke as often, were way more quiet that usual. It was driving Chrys crazy. Especially since they hadn't said a word to her about it.

She gave them a skeptical look. "Are you kidding me? You guys have been acting retarded all week. You've barely said a word to each other or me. I'm not an idiot, you two're hiding something from me, and I don'e like it." Murphy reached across the table and lay his hand on hers. "Don't worry your head on it, Chrys. There's nothing' wrong." Connor lay his hand on her other. "Aye. We're not hiding anythin'." She took her hands from them and cleared her dishes from the table without a word, rinsing them off and slamming them into the sink. "I'm going to bed." She said, and trudged off to her room like a child who had just been scorned by her parents.

The boys looked at each other. "Should we tell her?" Murphy asked his twin. The other shook his head. "No. We can't, I don't want her to have worry about it. Not after all the shit she's already gone through." Murphy slapped his hand against the table. "Well eventully she's gonna find out Conn, she's apart of this family! She's in as much trouble as we are!" Connor pinched Murphy's arm. "Ow! What the fuck?"

"Shut the fuck up! Tone it down or she's gonna hear us!"

"Alrigh' already, Jesus fucking Christ!"

Connor pointed a finger at him. "Lord's fuckin' name!" Murphy rolled his eyes and forked down a mouthful of greens. "Alrigh', Ma." He said, with his mouth full. "But we have to tell her. Maybe she can give us some feedback, or ideas or something'; Because as of right now we're shit out a' luck." Connor sighed and put both of their plates and cups in the sink. He ran his hand through his dirty blonde hair. "I know. I don' know what the fuck we're gonna do ta get out of dis shyte." Murphy rubbed his worn eyes. "Aye."

Later that night, long after the boys had turned in for the night, Chrys snuck into their room and crawled into bed beside Murphy, being as careful as possible so not to wake either of them. She watched his chest rise and fall softly before he grunted and shifted onto his side, placing both arms round her and pulling her to him in his sleep. The action startled her. But what startled her more was he effect it had on her body. She was just 13 when the boys had saved her life, and all this time they'd been like older brothers to her. But now that she was older…she didn't know anymore. They were still like brothers to her… but she didn't know when she started to become attracted to them. It was hard to explain how she felt. She loved them both as if they were one entity. Like a soul that had been split into two brothers. The way they had cared for her and taken her in…there wasn't a girl alive that would be able to avoid falling in love with them.

She brushed a few strands of Murphy's dark hair out of his sleeping eyes. Her hand lingered against his soft, pale skin. "Murph." She whispered, attempting to rouse him. Her hand trailed from his face and down his neck. "Murphy." She said a little louder now. She glanced over his shoulder to Connor, asleep in his own bed. She didn't want to wake him. She knew Murphy would tell her what they were up to if she pleaded with him. He was a sucker for damsels in distress. What she didn't count on was him being such a heavy sleeper. It was imperative that she didn't wake Connor, because she knew if she did he would shoe her away and she wouldn't be able to get a word out of Murph. She was going to have to resort to other methods if she wanted to wake him up. The thought was barely in her head before she carried it out, pressing her lips softly to his and whispered his name in his ear. His eyes fluttered open. "Chrys?" he said, a little confused. She nodded and pressed her fingers to his lips, motioning for him to quiet down. "Shhhh. I don't want to wake Conn." He nodded. Either he didn't know she had kissed him, or he chose not to acknowledge that she had. Either way was fine with her. She wasn't sure she was ready to confront her feelings for her boys just yet either.

"Please tell me what's wrong, Murphy." She whispered, pleading him with her eyes. He rolled back over and rubbed his eyes. "Fuck." He whispered. Chrysanthemum smiled. She had him right where she wanted him, and she'd hardly had to try. "Look, Chrys, I promised Conn I wouldn't tell ye nothin'. He doesn' want you te have to worry, and neither do I." She pouted. "That's bullshit Murph! Just tell me! You're worrying me more by stringing me along like this!"

"Alrigh' alrigh'! Jeeze. Fuckin' women." She flicked his nose. "Watch it buddy! I may be a girl but I could smear your arse!" He grinned. Okay so maybe she wouldn't be able to smear him, but he would let her win because that's just the kind of guy he was. Connor shifted in his sleep and murmured something in Gaelic. Murphy looked at Connor and turned back towards Chrys, motioning for her to be quieter. "Listen. We're in trouble Chrys." Her eyes darkened. "What do you mean?" She whispered. "We can't work for the Buckley's anymore. They just don't have the money or supplies to pay us. If we don't find somewhere else to work soon we're gonna lose the house." She let his words sink in. "I'm sure you guys will figure something out. You'll find another job Murph, it'll be fine. I could even get a job-" He shook his head. "No. We wouldn't have you workin' to pay off our debt. We've been thinkin' though. 'Bout maybe moving to the states and finding work." She sat up. "Wait, wait wait. The United States? Why would we go there? Everything we have is here. How would we get there, anyway? We don' have papers. We don't have the money to take those tests." Murphy looked down at his hands. "Well…we have a plan to go over on one of Billy Flannigan's trade boats. But the thing is…" He looked down at her. She could see he was as troubled as she was about the situation. "The thing is..?" She pressed him on. He exhaled. "We can't take you with us, Chrys."


	3. And then there was one

Chrysanthemum hadn't spoken to her boys for over a week. She couldn't believe they would even think of leaving her here. That night Murphy had gone on to explain that the main reason they couldn't take her was that there wasn't enough room for three stowaways on Billy's trade boat, and that it would put him more at risk of getting caught by border patrol. Getting someone in trouble for helping them wasn't something they wanted to happen. She had stomped off to her room angrily and cried herself to sleep. She didn't care if she woke up Connor or not.

That night the boys sat her down at the table to have a proper discussion about what they were going to do. She crossed her arms and stared at them. "Look, 'Mum. This is the only sensible way to solve our problem. Murph and I will sell a couple of things to pay off what we can for a while, and when we get to the states we'll get a proper job and send money back to pay the rest off." Hot tears stung her eyes. She didn't know what to say, and she couldn't believe they were actually going to leave her here. Alone. Murphy brought her right hand to his mouth and lay a soft kiss upon it. "We'll only be gone for a bit, Chrys. Only until the house is payed off. Then we'll come back for ye. We promise." Connor took her left hand and placed an almost identical kiss on it. "Yeah, love. We promise we'll be back before you know it. You know we'd never leave you without good cause." She withdrew her hands from theirs and used them to wipe the tears that had crept out of her sore eyes and down her pink cheeks. "Please don' cry." Murphy begged, the pain audible in his voice. Chrys sniffled. "I don't…I just don't know what I'll do." She pressed her face into her hands. She couldn't believe this was happening. Her worse fear was literally coming to pass; her boys were leaving her. And even if they promised they would come back, there was always a slight chance they wouldn't be able to. What if something happened to them and she wasn't there? "Oh God." She thought. What if they find girlfriends and forget about her? Or just stop caring and decide not to come back?

Her head swam with these painful thoughts, and she didn't know how much longer she'd be able to deal with it. Connor leaned forward. "Look Chrys. It's not just that there's not enough room to bring ye. We don' even know what it's going to be like when we get in the states."

"Aye." Murphy agreed. "It could be weeks or even months before we find jobs and make enough money to get a suitable hole in the wall to sleep. We could be on the streets for a while."

"And we're not goin'ta expose you to that kind of uncertainty, Chrys. We couldn' do that to ye. You've done so much and you mean far to much to us for us to put you through that." Murphy nodded. "At least if you're here you'll have a stable environment. Food to eat and a warm bed to sleep in." She took her hand away from her face, now very damp with tears. "Y-you have to promise me. You two have to fucking promise me that you'll come back. Please." The boys got up from their seats and came to kneal down on each side of her chair. They each took one of her hands in theirs. "Chrysanthemum, I promise you, with all my heart, that we will come back for you." Connor said, pressing her hand to his lips. "Aye. We'll send the money to pay off our debts, and be back for ye before you even know we're gone." Murphy added, mimicking his brother's actions. "We promise." They said in perfect stereo, as always.

After their discussion, Chrysanthemum had gone strait to bed. She lay there, curled up, crying. She didn't want them to leave. She knew they needed money. They couldn't lose the cottage, several generations of the MacManus family had lived out there whole lives there. Their great great grandfather had built it. They wouldn't even have to pay anything off on the house if their mother hadn't had to mortgage it for money after their father left when they were young. She didn't want to seem selfish by asking them to stay. She was going to have to just suck it up and be on her own for a while. But that was just it, Chrys didn't know how to be on her own. All her life she's either had her family, or her boys.

She was roused from her thoughts by two soft knocks at the door. She wiped away her tears with her sleeve. "Come in." She said, almost to soft for the boys to hear. They walked in to her room, took their boots off, and set them by her door. Connor Made his way to her bed first and lay facing her, wrapping his arms around her. Murphy followed suit and gripped her softly from behind. They lay there for a while, just enjoying each others company. It took all of the strength Chrys had not to burst into tears. "I love you, 'Mum." Connor whispered in her ear, and cupped her face in one hand. Murphy ran his hand up and down her arm. "Aye, Chrys. I love you. We love you. And we're not gonna let anythin' happen to you. Ever." Their words and actions sent shivers down her spine and through her nervous system.

She looked at Connor. "Conn, Please don't leave me." She choked out. She sat up and turned to Murphy. "Please, please don't leave me." The boys sat up beside her and kissed her tears away. Murphy trailed sweet kisses down her cheek and to her neck and collar-bone, while Connor took her chin in his hand kissed her lovingly on the lips. She couldn't help but let all of her worries melt away in their affection. Their lips felt so good against her skin. "Please stay in her with me tonight." She begged, grabbing the collars of their shirts and possessively pulling them toward her. They both nodded and lay down with her, arms draped around her small body protectively. Connor ran his fingers through her hair, and Murphy gently braised his hands against her arms and belly until she she eventually fell into a peaceful slumber. For the first night in 6 long years, there were no nightmares to haunt her.

Connor and Murphy gathered anything of value that they could pawn, but that Chrys wouldn't need while they were gone. An old TV, a radio, some old jewelry and semi-valuable furniture. They even took their mattresses and sheets and loaded it all into the back of Billy Flannigan's waiting truck. He honked at the twins, and shouted for them to hurry. Connor punched the frame of his car. "Shut the fuck up! I swear to God if you wake her up I will castrate yer fuckin' ass!"

"Yeah!" Murphy added. "Keep that shit down, will ye?" Flannigan rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Alrigh'! But you two have to hurry if you want to make it to the fuckin' dock on time!"

The boys gathered what little was left of their clothes and other supplies and packed them into duffel bags. Murphy was on his way out the door when Connor stopped him. "Come on, Murph. We have to say our goodbyes." Murphy's expression was a pained one. "We've already caused her enough pain as it is by leavin' her Conn. We should make it a clean break and just get on with it." Connor nodded. "I know. I just wan'te see her one last time though. We don't have to wake her up." Murphy agreed, setting his bag down and following his brother into Chrysanthemum's room. The door creaked slightly as they entered, but their beloved didn't stir from the sleep they had left her to.

Connor ran his hands through her soft hair for what would be the last time in a very long time. He and his brother placed a sweet kiss on both of her eyes, and her blush colored lips. "We've got to get out of here." Murphy whispered, rising from his spot on her bed. "If we stay much longer I wont be able to leave her Conn. I can barely stand to leave her as it is." Connor nodded and gave his twin a hug, trying to share some of his strength, which was waning almost as much as Murphy's. "Aye. But we have to do this. For her." Murphy nodded. The twins got in Flannigan's truck to make the stop to the pawn shop before they left for port. "Drive." Connor said.

"Now. Get out of here!" Murphy yelled.


	4. My bonnies lie over the ocean

Chrys awoke from the best night's sleep she had experienced in 6 years and stretched. Rubbing her eyes, she got out of bed and crossed her room to open the window, like she did every morning. She poked her head out and looked around. There were no figures in the distance coming home to her. Only the lonely sun rising into the clouds, shining an eerie purple blue light through them.

And then it hit her. She flew through her bedroom door and tore through the house. Random pieces of furniture were missing. She kicked their bedroom door open and gasped. There was nothing. Everything was gone. Clothes. Furniture. Beds, even. All that was left was a strew of random things on the floor. She sank to her knees against the door and bawled. They were gone. They were fucking gone. They had left her without even saying goodbye.

It was all too much to take. She cried and cried for almost an hour and a half before dragging herself back to bed. What was she going to do without them? She hadn't known they were leaving so soon. She might have felt worse if they had told her when they would be leaving. She would have dreaded it's passing every day; but now they were gone and none of the details mattered. She felt their absence like a disease in her soul.

It was then that she noticed the envelope on her bedside table. With quivering hands she reached from it, extracting the letter from within. With tears in her eyes, she read.

_Dear Chrys. _

_We know you'll be upset when you realize that we've left. We're sorry, this is something that we have to do. And we meant everything we promised. We will come back for you as soon as we're settled and have the chance. After all, we won't be able to get on without you cooking and cleaning up after us for long. We'll be crawling back to you in no time. We've paid off as much on the house as we could with what we sold, and you'll be fine for a good while so don't worry about anything. Once we get a right job we'll send money to you when we can, so don't worry about getting a job yourself. You should have enough food to last you until then and if you don't, Ole man Buckley promised to feed you should you ever be hungry. Don't ever forget that we love you, 'Mum. We'll do everything and anything in our power to get back to you as soon as we can. Please take care of yourself. And should you ever need it, Da's gun is in an old box on top of the fireplace._

_*****__Leats go deo, _

_Your Boys._

She gingerly folded the letter back into the envelope and placed it into the drawer or her bedside table. She laid back down in her bed, alone, and continued to sob. She knew it would be a long time before she could bring herself to drag her way out of bed.

For weeks she only left her room to use the restroom and eat maybe once a day. The pain of their absence was close to unbearable. It wasn't even just an emotional hurt. It was physical. She could feel it in her heart and in her bones, sucking all of the energy out of her.

It was a bright and cool morning near spring's end when Chrysanthemum finally snapped out of the catatonic state that had been plaguing her. She had spent what had been left of winter and the better part of spring overcoming her heart-sickness. It was time, she realized; to stop being a baby and come to her senses. However, she didn't completely regret having felt sorry for herself for so long. The down time had given her some room to think. Think about what she was going to do now; how long she would have to wait before her boys came back to her. She also spent a lot of time contemplating the twins' actions the last night they were all together.

She could still feel Connor's mouth lingering on her own, and Murphy's touch burning on her skin. Did those actions mean that they felt the same way for her as she did for them? Surely not. She wasn't even really sure what it was she felt. They were probably just trying to take her mind off of them leaving. After all, either of the twins would be a right catch for any girl. They were handsome, kind, and responsible…well, semi-responsible. They were aware of the effect they had on women, and used it to their advantage from what their mother had told her. She'd told Chrys that the two of them brought home plenty of girls when they were younger. There couldn't possibly be any reason for them to desire her. She wasn't incredibly thin like most girls found attractive in this day and age, but she was far from plain. Or at least that's what her mother had always told her. She felt a stab of pain from the loss of her mother. It quickly faded though, as most pain does with enough time.

She was finally able to convince herself that they thought of her as nothing more than a sister. Their affections had been meant to be taken in a platonic way. For her to have ever thought otherwise was silly, she reasoned. But as much as she tried to convince herself that is was silly and she really shouldn't, she knew that she would still have feelings for the both of them.

Being inactive and alone in the house had been slowly driving her mad. What she needed was a job; a reason to get out of the house and meet people. It wasn't like she needed the extra income. She didn't have to worry about utilities or anything of the like; the boys made sure of that. She still had plenty of vegetables and other food stored from the previous year, but she hadn't gotten around to laying any seeds down this spring; and it was much to late in the season to reasonably do so. She would have to wait until summer.

Chrys gathered all of her laundry, including her bedding, and threw it all into one large load. She then proceeded into full on spring-cleaning mode, and didn't slow down until most of the house was spotless and in order. All except for one room…

She stood in front of the door down the hall from her own bedroom and let out a deep breath she had been holding. She hadn't been through that door since the day she realized they were gone; but lingering at the back of her mind all this time was the realization that she would eventually have to go in there and face her emotions. She ran her hand along the smooth hand crafted cherry wood until it reached the cream colored porcelain knob. She took another deep breath and opened the door, exhaling loudly as she entered the room.

It only stung a little, to her surprise; to see their room in shambles and uninhabited. She carefully gathered any stray items on the floor and tucked them away. She came across a few articles of abandoned clothing as well. She took one of Murphy's old flannels and brought it to her face, deeply inhaling the scent of him from it. She gathered one of each of their shirts and vowed not to wash them. She wanted the comfort of knowing at least the scent of them could remain in her presence. She threw the rest in with her laundry to use for clothes of her own. After she had all of their things packed up and the room was properly swept and polished, evening had already descended outside. Chrysanthemum decided that now as as good a time as any to go into town and ask around for a job; so she went off to fix her hair and makeup while waiting for her clothes to dry.

***Leats go deo is Gaelic for Forever yours**


	5. A new leaf

It's funny the different effects that time can have on human emotion. It can erode and fade it until there's barely any of the original feelings left. Only a trace of a memory remaining; much like the effect water has on rock. Sometimes, however, time can act as if it were salt, adding more and more of it to a wounded emotion only intensifies the original feeling; causing it to fester and burn.

For the first year, time took the latter effect on her. They didn't write. They didn't call. All of this lead her to believe that they didn't care; and it hardened her spirit. She had managed to find a job at an old pub and diner called The Anvil.

The day she had gone in to inquire about a job, the owner, who was busy polishing pint glasses at the bar, eyed her up and down. "Y'eve never been 'ere before." She nodded in agreement. "No, but my…my uh, brothers used to come here all the time. They would talk about how great of a place it was when they came home." He turned to put away the glass he had just gotten done with and grabbed another. "Aye? And just who might yer brothers be, lass?"

"Connor and Murphy MacManus." The man almost dropped the glass he was holding, and broke into a grin revealing several decaying teeth. "Those idiots?" Chrys nodded again. "Uhm…yeah?" He began to laugh in a kind and throaty tone. "I love 'dem boys! I didn't know they had any sisters!" She cleared her throat a little uncomfortably. "Well, I'm not really blood related to them. It's just, they and their mum kin' of raised me after my family died in a fire." His eyes darkened and he crossed himself. "You mus' be the Flynn girl. I read your story in the paper all those years ago. I'm awfully sorry 'bout what's happened to ye's." She thanked him and asked him if he would possible consider her for a job, after explaining to him that she needed to keep busy while Conner and Murphy were gone. "Of course lass, any kin to dem boys is kin te me. I'll keep ye plen'y busy while de'yre gone." He had told her. And now, almost a year later, The Anvil had become her second home. She'd become friends with the regulars and with her co-workers. It made the boys' abandonment sting much less to be surrounded by other people who cared about her.

Today was bound to be a long day for The Anvil. It would be the first St. Patrick's Day that Chrysanthemum had worked there, and she wasn't sure she knew what to expect. The Conn and Murph had gone there every St. Paddy's, but they never let her come with them. Not only because she had been a minor; they didn't want her to get caught up in a bar fight or have to deal with drunk guys hitting on her.

She looked at her face in the mirror as she wrung out her damp, freshly bleached hair. She liked the way the blonde looked with her naturally pale complexion, and how it drew attention to the freckles that flecked her face. She thought about how Connor had always told her he loved her freckles. She punched the wall beside the mirror. _I'm tired of thinking about those assholes._ She thought. That's why she had dyed and cut her hair in the first place. It made her feel like a new person. A person that no longer had to be dependant on them. _Fuck 'em._ She thought. They didn't care about her anymore. But at the back of her mind she scolded herself for being so tempermental. They hadn't forgotten her. They were just…busy. Too busy to call or write. For a year.

Chrys arrived at The Anvil with her new hair in her uniform; A hunter green polo shirt and a black mini-skirt with a black apron sporting The Anvil's logo. "Good evenin' 'Mum." Shouted Wilson, the bar's owner and the man who had given her the job. She waved at him. " 'Evenin Wilson!" She walked around to the back of the already severely bar crowded with rowdy patrons. Wilson squinted though his bifocals at her. "What'd ye do to yer hair lass?" She shrugged as she began filling patrons' glasses with whatever brew they ordered. "I just got tired of looking in the mirror. Figured I'd shake it up a little."

"I think she looks fabuloso!" Her co-worker Nicolo, and Italian and very very gay immigrant, sauntered over to her and gave her a vice-like hug. He was three inches taller than her, making him the shortest man she had ever come across. "Why, thank you Nicky!" She air kissed him before they both got back to work.

As the night wore on, Chrysanthemum couldn't help but notice one of the regulars staring at her. He'd been making eyes at her all night, and it was making her kind of nervous. He came in all the time and sat at the exact same seat at the bar, and always ordered Gin on the rocks with a wedge of lime. He had the most startling green eyes she'd ever seen and was actually quite attractive now that she looked at him closely. He'd never paid any special attention to her before, which is why it struck her as so odd that he had been staring at her all this time.

She walked over to a girl she worked with, Molly Mahoney, who she had become very good friends with in the past year.. "Moll." She tapped her tall brunette friend on the shoulder, who then turned around. "Aye? What is it Chryssy?" Chrys pointed surreptitiously to the man who'd had eyes on her, trying not to queue him off to the fact that she'd noticed. "Who's 'at over there?" Molly looked, and proceeded to let her jaw drop about ten feet. She grabbed Chrys by the shoulders and turned her around, edging the both of them out of his viewing range. "What is it Molly?" Molly shushed Chrysanthemum, and told her not to be so loud. "It's not like he's going to hear us over all of the people and the music, Moll. It's St. Paddy's for pete's sake." Molly smacked her on the back of the head. "It doesn't matter. Don't speak to him. Don't even look at 'im, Chrys. He's trouble." Chrys glanced around the corner at him, then back to her friend. "Why? Who is he then?"

"That's Lile Cagney, he's the VP of the Sons of Scathach. They're an awful gang." Chrysanthemum told Molly that she had no idea who he was or that there was even a gang like that around here. "Aye." Molly nodded. "They're the worst." A customer then flagged Chrys down to refill his drink. "Promise me you'll stay away from 'im." Molly pleaded with her friend. "I don' want you goin' off and getting yerself hurt."

"Alrigh' already." Chrys said, waving her friend's concern away and walking off getting the man his refill. She didn't need Molly to tell her what to do. She was a big girl now; she could take care of herself.

At the end of the night Molly and Nicolo went home after saying their goodbyes to Chrys and Wilson. Chrys helpless Wilson clean up and close the bar down. "How much profit did we turn then?" Chrys asked her boss while she chewed on a stray peanut. "Not as much as we usually do on St. Paddy's." He said, shaking his head and grabbing Chrys' arm to escort her out the back door of the bar and to her car in the dark parking lot. "Why do ye think that is?" She asked him when they reached her car. It was an old hoopty she had bought with some money she managed to save, making it a lot easier to get around these days. The old man sighed. "I reckon' it's all the new modern shyte bars that have been opened up closer to town. None o'de young riff raff want to hang around an ole' dive like de'Anvil anymore." She patted him on the back. "Don't seem so glum boss, we've still got our regulars. They won't let you down." He nodded. "I hope yer righ' lass. I hope you're righ'." He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek and then walked to his own car and drove off as Chrysanthemum was digging her own keys from her purse.

She hadn't heard any footsteps leading up to the tap on her shoulder, and it scared the shit out of her. She let out a yell and spun around, decking whoever it was in the face. The man yowled in pain and doubled over. Chrys gasped. "Oh I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to-" She stopped when she realized it was the man Molly had been telling her about. Lile Cagney. He removed his hand from his face to reveal a small amount of blood trickling out of his nose. Chrys was taken aback at how handsome he was. His face had the roughness of Conner's, but his green eyes were just as soft and feminine as Murphy's creamy blues. He was going to be trouble. She quickly came to her senses. "Oh no! you're bleeding! Here, let me." She grabbed a napkin out of her purse and pressed it against his face, making him wince. His hand brushed against hers as he took it from her. It sent an electric pulse through her arm and down her body. She quickly withdrew her arm before he could do any more damage.

"It's alrigh'." He said, finally speaking. His tone was somehow light and hearty at the same time. "I shouldn't have snuck up on ye like tha'. 'Twas righ' rude of me." She waved it off. "Not at all! I really shouldn't just go around hitting random people who tap on my shoulder…" A heavy silence hung in the air as Lile eyed her. With one hand still clutching the napkin on his nose, he offered the other to her. "I'm Lile Cagney. How d'ya do?"

After that night everything changed. Molly had been dead wrong about Lile, he was a complete gentleman from the moment Chrys had met him. When the plumbing went out in the house, he was there to fix it. When Chrys' tire blew out on the way to work, he was the first one there to help her. Chrysanthemum slowly found herself falling for him. Not in the way she had fallen for the boys. She had loved them with every fiber of her being, and it had slowly converted itself from a chaste affection to one of desire. With Lile her feelings weren't quite as strong. But she knew it wouldn't be hard for her to fall in love with him. After a while he began taking her out on a regular basis. She was ecstatic to have someone to spend time with after all the sleepless night's she had spent by herself. The only ones who weren't so excited were here friends, Wilson and Molly in particular. She and Wilson had gotten in a huge fight about it one night.

"You don' know anything' about him Chrys. I've heard the stories! That boy is a devil in sheep's clothing!" He'd screamed at her. She had been taken aback and angered by his words. "Oh, do you get all of yer reliable information from the grapevine then?" She had yelled right back at him. "You don't know him. None of you do! He's a proper gentleman and he takes care of me!"

"The boys would be kickin' you in your arse if dey knew you were keepin' company with the likes of Cagney! And I'd let 'em!" Now she was mad. What right did he have to bring them up now? After another year had gone by and she was finally overcoming their abandonment…with Lile's help, of course. "Fuck you ole' man! They left me here to rot while they live it up in America, probably trouncin' around with every trollop that throws herself at them!" Wilson was taken aback. He knew he's gone to far b bringing up the twins, but he hadn't expected her to react so harshly. "They loved you, 'Mum. They still do."

"Oh, they love me, do they? If they love me so much, then why did they leave, huh? Why aren't they here with me?" She threw her apron down and stormed out of the bar. She would have quit if Lile had urged her not to. "Shush 'Mum. It'll be alrigh' They jus' reject what they don' understand. They think jus' because my da's the President of the Sons of Scathach, that I'm a street rat or somethin'." She wiped her red, puffy eyes. "Molly Mahoney said you were in that gang too." He scoffed. "She did, eh? Nah. De Sons run around wreakin' havoc and dealin' illegal arms. Da's not what I'm about. I'm happy wit' my silly blue collar job at the distillery; providin' I get to come to de bar and see your pretty face every night." That made her blush. He was so sweet. She hadn't asked him about what Molly had said until now, and she believed what he told her. Why would he lie? Molly had probably just been overreacting when she'd told her Lile was in the gang. He'd never given her a reason not to trust him; quite the contrary. He was there for her now that the twins were gone away. And she was coming to love him for it.

She didn't even doubt him when she read in the paper that Molly's house had been vandalized a week later. The police speculated it was the work of one of the local gangs. Chrys had tried to comfort her friend at work one night, but Molly ignored her. They hadn't been keeping up too well since Chrys started dating Lile. "Molly!" Chrys tried to catch up with her in the parking lot after her shift, but she wouldn't turn around. "Molly!" Chrys yelled again, running in front of the girl and blocking her way into her vehicle.

She looked a wreck. She had a shiner the size of Texas and her cheek was swollen and red. Chrys reached out to touch her. "Molly what the fuck? Who did this to you! I'll fuckin-" Molly slapped her hand away. "This is all your fault." She spat. Chrys took a few steps back, surprised by Molly's harsh tone. "Moll-" "Molly pointed at her. "I warned you." She said, then shoved Chrys out of the way and got into her old and beaten truck; driving away without a word and leaving Chrys quite speechless.


	6. Troubling news

_Before we begin I wanted to give some special shout outs to my reviewers. HelzLckyAngl, Arquero333, HardyGirl87 and ,eXsTorDiNaRily InViSiBlE. Thank you guys for the feedback, it really keeps me going; and more importantly thank you guys for reading and enjoying my work! Keep the reviews coming guys!_

Back in the states the boys had been living out the last two years of their lives in South Boston. It was difficult to make a living at first. They'd spent quite a few nights sleeping on corners and under overpasses. They finally got a stable job at the local meat-packing plant and were making enough money to send some back for the house. They went to mass every morning and prayed that Chrysanthemum was safe and happy. They were renting a shitty apartment under the table, and that's where they were now, smoking cigarettes and chatting with their friend, David Rocco.

"So what you two micks are telling me is; you had some hot chick cooking and cleaning and sucking your fucking dicks for you back in Ireland…and you left here there." Connor and Murphy both punched him. "Ow!" He exclaimed. "Don' fuckin' talk about 'er like that. She's more than just some hot chick. And she _did not_ suck our dicks." Connor agreed with his twin. "Aye. We've known her since she was a wee girl. She's like a sister to us." _Yeah, a sister you think is attractive and make out with occasionally._ Murphy thought, sharing a knowing look with his brother. He was thinking the exact same thing. Connor snubbed out his cigarette and grabbed beers for all three of them.

The boys met David Della Rocco down at a local bar called McGinty's several months back. He was a numbers runner and package boy for the Yakavetta Italian crime family. If you think it's weird for a 30 year old man to be stuck doing a job that a chihuahua could do blindfolded, you wouldn't be alone. Rocco had been trying to convince his boss, Giuseppe "Papa Joe" Yakavetta to promote him for years, but kept getting rejected. They liked him just where he was.

Rocco cracked his beer open and took a sip. "So why'd you two leave anyway? Sounds like you pretty much had it made back home." Murphy shook his head and took a drag of his tar. "Nah. The family we was workin' for couldn' afford to employ us anymore, and our ma left us some debt on the house when she moved out." Connor nodded, and downed his whole beer in one swig, then burped loudly and crushed the can, throwing it against the wall. "We knew there was no good work out there, so we decided to come stateside to make some real money. We've been sending most of it back since we got our job at the plant."

"Well why didn't you bring the broad with you?" Rocco inquired. "We didn't want to put her in a position where we couldn't protect her if we needed to. And b'sides, we'll be goin' back just as soon as we save up enough denero." Connor nodded. "Aye." They had been telling themselves that for a long time; that they would be going back soon. But they both knew that they were no closer to their goal of financial stability than when they had left, and it had already been two years. Being without their girl was no easy task. They dreamt of her face nearly every night. Her smile, eyes, freckles, the way she greeted them every morning for six years with breakfast and a smile. She had done so much for them, and they had left her without so much as a word back since. They didn't even send the money directly to her. They sent it to the Buckley's to take into town and pay for them. They didn't want Chrysanthemum to have to deal with any of that.

It's not that they didn't want to write or call. They just figured it would be easier on everyone if they kept their clean break sustained; that way they would be all the more happy when they were reunited with her. Contacting her would just make being without her more painful. "If I were her I'd be pretty pissed. She's been cow towing to you two jerks for so long and you guys thank her by kicking her to the curb? That's not really cool man." Rocco said. Hearing it put like that made Connor angry; even though somewhere within he knew it was partly true. She had asked, no; begged them not to leave her, with tears in her eyes. And they did. Connor slammed his fist down on the table in frustration.

"We already feel bad enough abou' it as it is, Roc. No need to tell us we were dogs about it. We already know." Murphy said, snubbing his cigarette out on top of Connor's. "I mean, you said you didn't bring her with you because you didn't want her to run into any trouble over here with you two, but what makes you think she's not finding trouble by herself; without you two to look out for her?" Rocco wasn't trying to pry or be rude; he honestly wondered why this hadn't occurred to them before now. Murphy furrowed his brow. He hadn't thought about it before…he just assumed that she would be out of harm's way back at home. But how could they honestly know?

Connor read his brother's features and attempted to comfort him. "You know if anything was goin' on wit' her, the Buckley's would tell us. She'll be fine. She _is _fine." Connor couldn't decide who he was trying to convince. His brother, or himself.

Later that night, after Rocco had excused himself to go make a delivery for his boss, The phone rang. The boy's hands slammed down on the receiver at the same time. "Hallo?" they both yelled into the receiver. _"Oi boys, it's Willy."_ Connor let out a deep breath he'd been holding. "Oi, Wilson. How's The ole' Anvil holding up?" Connor said. "Yeah," Murphy added. "How have y'been doin' old man?" _I've been makin' it alrigh' boys. But it's not me I've called ye to talk abou'."_ Murphy and Connor's hearts sank simultaneously. "What's happened?" They both asked. _"Well a while after you two left yer pretty lil' lass got a job up at the bar."_ Murphy interrupted. "Why?"

"Yeah." Connor said. "We told her she'd be fine withou' a job. Tha' we'd take care of all the money problems."

"_How would you feel bein' cooped up alone in a house all day wit' not'in but shyte to remind ye of how lonely ye'are?"_

"Alrigh' alrigh'. We get it." Murphy said. "Tell us what's happened already." Connor added. _"Well she was doin' great fer a while. Makin' friends and such. She even bought a car wit' the money she saved up. But she's been hangin' around a real shifty guy lately, and I'm startin' to worry about her." _The hair on the back of Connor's neck bristled. "Whad'ye mean she's been hangin' around a guy?" Murphy elbowed his brother and told him to settle down, not that the news that Chrys had been spending time with another man had any less of an effect on his anger. "Wha's his name Willy?" Murphy asked. _"Well…I d'know if I should be the one to tell ye. Maybe you should call Chrys-"_

"No can do Wilson." Connor interrupted. "Now tell us who d'fuck she's been seein'."

"_Well…She's been goin' out with Lile Cagney. You know, the one from the Sons of Scathach."_ The twins stood up abruptly, simultaneously knocking their chairs out from under them and onto their broken tile floor. "What the fuck?" Connor yelled. "Why the fuck would you let a guy like that come around her?"

"Yeah!" Murphy added. "The Sons are the gang 'dat burned down her fuckin' house!"

"_Oh, shyte. Does she know that?"_

"No. We never felt the need to tell her. It didn' matter then, but it sure as fuck matters now!" Murphy said. "Aye. You call her up to the bar right now and tell her to stay the fuck away from him!" Connor said.

"_It's no use boys. I can'e talk any sense inta'her. I already tried to tell her he was trouble but whe wouln' listen. She wouldn' even listen to her best friend when she told her to stay away. Kept saying how he was a proper gentleman and he was takin' care of her now that the two of you had left."_

The old man's word stung the boys like lemon juice in a fresh cut. They shared a look of despair. They had feared something like this would happen, but they didn't know it would be with Lile fucking Cagney. This situation was totally fucked. They knew Cagney was a right dog, and that he was just wooing her into a false sense of security. Eventually he would reveal his true colors. Eventually, Chrys was going to get hurt. In trying to protect their girl they had put her in the way of more harm than they ever could have imagined. "Alrigh' Wilson. Y'eve done all ye can. Thanks for that a'least."

"Aye." Connor agreed. "Thanks for trying to talk some sense into her."

"_Your welcome boys. But yer goin'ta have to think of somethin' soon, dat boy's poisonous…I don' wan'te see her hurt boys, I've gotten te be pretty fond of 'er. She's a fine lady."_

"We know." The boys said together. "Thanks for callin' us Willy." Connor said. "We'll get back to ye soon."

"_Alrigh' boys. Take care."_

Murphy set the phone back into its cradle, and looked at his brother for guidance. Connor was at just as much of a loss for what do to. "I can' t believe she's seein' someone." Murphy said, breaking the tense silence between them. "Well what did'ye expect Murph? We're the ones that left. And 'sides, it's not like she's ever goin'te feel the same way as we do about her. I mean, What're we goin' te say to 'er?" Connor said skeptically. "Hey Chrys, me and Murph have had a hard on for you fer a while, would you mind if we shared ye? She'd think we we're fuckin' perverts!" Murphy shook his head and rubbed his tired eyes. "We are fuckin' perverts." He picked up his chair and sat back sown in it, while Connor did the same. "And now she's in trouble, and it's our fault."

"Aye." Connor said. "And to make it worse, we've no way to get back home to help 'er." Murphy nodded. He knew what his brother said was true. As strong as the urge was to get on the nearest boat back to Ireland and drag 'Mum back with them, they both knew there was no sensible way to do so. Murphy's gaze burned into his brother's. "I want to kill that motherfucker." He said, meaning every word. "No doubt about it." Connor agreed, nodding his head. "If he so much as touches her-" Murphy cut his twin off. "Even if he doesn't touch her, I'm still gonna kill 'im. Who does he think he is runnin' 'round with her? His family burned her house down!"

Even though The Sons of Scathach were the prime suspects in the police's investigation of the arson the Flynn's estate, they were never able to make anything stick. It just slid right off their backs. Not enough evidence. Everyone knew it was their doing though. Hearsay was that Mr. Flynn had a big gambling problem, and blew most of the money he earned betting on races and such. In the end he owed the Sons quite a sum. He refused to pay up because he didn't have the money...the rest wasn't hard to put together.

"We should have fuckin' killed him 8 years ago for what he did." Connor said. "Him and his good for nothin' Da." Murphy nodded in agreement. "Aye. But now it's to late, and we can't do anything."

"We're just goin'te have to trust Chrys to make the right descisions and take care of herself for a while. At least until we can make it back and smear his arse."

"Aye." Murphy agreed. "And thwap her a good one for bein' such a fuckin' bad judge of character."

"I'm goin'te shove my foot up 'er fuckin' ass." Connor said. "Are ye sure you wouldn't enjoy that too much?" Murphy joked. Connor laughed and kicked him under the table. "We should at least call her and give her a heads up." Connor suggested. Murphy disagreed. "You know her hard head." He knocked on his own a few times to make a point. "She's worse than ma, she wouldn't listen to us now especially since we've been gone fer so long without talking to her; Rocco is right. She's pra'lly pissed."

"Well we'll just have to sit it out then. Wait until the ball's in our court." Murphy nodded in agreement. "Aye."

They called Wilson back and told him to keep them updated, and he was to call them immediately should anything happen to Chrys. He agreed hesitantly, saying he wished the boys would just come out and get her. If only he knew how much they wanted to do just that.


	7. Forgive me, Father

_Chrysanthemum's mom smiled and handed the young girl a plate of fresh scrabled eggs with a few slices of fruit on the side. "Eat up my lil' munchkin'. Ye've got a long day ahead of you." The little girl nodded and answered her mother respectfully, like she'd been taught. "Yes Ma'am. Thank you for breakfast." Her mother's sweet smile broadened. "Yer turnin' out to be such a fine young lady darlin'. I'm so proud of ye." _

"_Thank you ma-" The little girl was unable to finish her sentence; and let out a blood curdling scream as her mother burst into flames in front of her, and began writhing in pain on the floor._

Chrys awoke in a cold sweat. She let out a deep and quivering breath as she realized it was just a dream. For some reason her night terrors had stopped after the boys left, but had recently returned with a vengeance she had never experienced before. It took her a few deep breaths to calm down before she realized something was wrong. She glanced at the digital alarm clock on Lile's bedside table. It read 3:45am. She often slept over at his flat. She told him it was because she didn't want him to see her house a mess but in reality she kept it up very well these days. As much as she hated to admit it to herself, she didn't feel comfortable bringing a man into the house she'd shared with the boys, especially since they didn't even know him. A lot of her animosity toward them had dissipated in recent months. She wasn't in a desperate fit anymore like in the beginning, and she wasn't intensely upset with them either. She worried about them now more than anything. But how could she know if they were alright when they never called her?

She squinted down at the empty side of the bed where Lile should have been laying. Wondering where he could possible be at near 4 in the morning, she got up and slipped her feet into a pair of slippers, and went looking for him. She knocked on the bathroom door and then opened it, to see if maybe he just had to pee in the middle of the night. It was dark and empty. She was on her way down the hall to look in his study when she heard murmured voices coming from the living/dining room. Feeding the secret snoop deep within her, she pressed her ear quietly to the door and listened in on the conversation. "I just don' know how ye've gotten away wit it fer dis lang."

"I think yer jus' jealous dat I'm so smooth." Both voices broke into laughter. Chrys recognized the second one to be Lile, she had no idea the identity of the first speaker. "Well how long are ye goin' to go in wit' dis? Surely ye've got an end game in mind."

"Of course I do." Lile said. "Well what is it? Carol's getting' antsy. She's wonderin' how much longer yer goin' to be goin' round with the little trollop."

"Carol can wait it out. I told her I need to make the little girl pay for what 'er father did to my family." Chrysanthemum's heart began beating faster. She clasped her hand over her mouth to muffle her breathing, which had grown more rapid. _What are they talking about?_ She wondered. But the sinking feeling in her chest gave her a slight idea.

"So you and yer Da burnin' down his house and killing all of his family wasn' enough?"

"Nah. Didn't get it righ' the first time. There's still one left." A chair scuffed against the floor. Chrysanthemum held her breath as heavy footsteps plodded toward the door she was leaning against. _Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God! What do I do?! _She had just begun to panic when the footsteps faded in the other direction. She heard bottles clink together as the refrigerator was opened. She let her breath let out in a quiet hiss of relief. Her heart was still pounding however, as she waited for the conversation to continue. "Listen Lile, I understand that yer mad about what happened with Flynn and yer Ma." There was a loud bang as something hit the wall. "I'm not just fuckin' mad, Michael! That motherfucker ruined my family when he had an affair wit' my Ma, and then had the nerve to strike my Da's face! That scar will never go away, and my Da has to look at his face in the mirror every day and remember walking in on Flynn fucking my mother!" There was a tense silence. Chrysanthemum sat shocked, as a chapter of her father's life she'd had no idea even existed was being revealed to her. "Okay okay, alrigh'!" The other man said. "You can do whatever you want wit' her, but if you fuck this up or get caught, it's all goin'te fall on the Sons' backs, and you know it. So ye'd better be careful."

She couldn't listen to anymore. She rose from her crouched position and ran as quickly and quietly as she could to the door. _I've got to get out of here, now._ She thought, fighting hard against the panic rising in her chest. She pulled her sweater over her head and shoved her boots over her feet, neglecting to tie them. Putting her keys in the ignition, she gunned it out of his driveway and drove home, locking the door behind her.

She called in to work the next day. _"Sure, I can call Kathy in to cover for ye." _

"Okay, boss. Thank you so much." Chrys said, genuinely relieved. There was no way she would be able to go into the bar today and face the chance of seeing Lile. After a pause, Wilson said _"Are you sure everything is okay, darlin'? Ye know you can tell me if somethin's wrong."_

"I know Wil. Thanks for bein' so kind. And I'm really fine, just feeling a little under the weather today." She hoped he would buy it. _"Alrigh' love. Call me when yer feelin' better."_ She said goodbye and hung up the phone and looked at the clock. 3pm. He would be getting off of work in a few hours…if the Distillery was even where he really worked. Had everything he'd told her been a lie? All of the information she'd learned last night had been far too much to completely absorb. For instance, she didn't know her father had been having an affair on her mother, and she'd never known that her house had been burned down by someone. She'd always had it in her mind that it was an accident. Those two worries paled in comparison to one fact she had learned, however. The things she'd learned about her past couldn't be changed. The fact that Lile probably planned to kill her was a bit of a more pressing matter. She brought her knees against her chest and began to cry softly. When had everything become so horribly fucked up? She missed the boys now more than ever; wished they were here to help. They would know exactly what to do. And that's when it hit her. She knew what she would have to do to make all of this stop.

Chrys had just gotten done packing her duffel and making arrangements when the phone rang. To her surprise, it was Nicolo…but he sounded very frightened. _"Chrys! Oh mio Dio! I'm so glad you answered!" _There was breaking glass and loud voices in the background. "What's wrong Nic? What's going on?"

"_Listen, the bar is getting robbed by the Sons of Scathach, they've knocked Wilson out and they're tearing the place down! Molly and I are holed up in the supply closet. I can hear them yelling. They're saying that they're coming after you next! You've got to get out of your house, Chrys!"_ She couldn't believe what was happening. Wilson was hurt, and her friends were in danger. It was all her fault. "Oh my God Nic, I'm so sorry! Please just be careful and stay out of their way! Make sure Wilson's alright when they leave."

"_We will." _He said. _"Don't worry Chrys, this isn't your fault; we'll be alright. Just promise me you're going to leave right now!"_

"I can't." She said. "There's something I have to do first."

When she heard the loud banging on her door, she knew it could only be him. In the time she'd been waiting for him to arrive, she prayed. For what her father had done, for what the Cagney's had done to her family, what Lile wanted to do to her. Most of all, she begged the Lord to forgive what she was about to do. She crossed herself and tucked her Mother's pearl rosary, into her black tartan flannel. It had been one of the only possessions not completely consumed by the fire. It was ironic, in a way, how all of the events in her life up to now tied back into that very day.

She hadn't expected the hit that came when she opened the front door. He had punched her in the stomach, making her reel backwards and double over in pain. Chrys continued to back away from him as he trudged toward her, throwing and kicking random items about as he approached. "Y'know, yer not as stupid as I though' you were at first, lass." Lile said, an evil grin lighting up his features. "I mean, come on. I had you from day one. Yer jus' like er'y other girl alive. All I had te do was bat me eyelashes and spin a few lines about how pretty ye are." He said, backing her closer and closer into the wall. "So you can imagine my surprise when I realized you had figured out what I was up te." He shoved her into the wall, cracking her head against it. She was seeing stars but managed to spit in his face. "Fuck you, motherfucker." He laughed. "Fuck me? No love, fuck you. It's time for you te pay for what yer father did to my family." Her reared back to hit her, but she'd had enough already. She kicked him hard in the knee, and he fell backwards onto the coffee table. "Oh poor pitiful you!" She screamed, grabbing the wooden bat that was stowed under the couch. "You just can't stop bitching about what he did to your family. What about what you did to mine?!" She reared back and struck him in the gut with the bat, causing him to yowl in pain. "I don't have any control over what my father did. But I do have control over what I'm going to do to you." He attempted to crawl away from her, but she kicked him in the side. She was completely lost in the hatred she felt for this man. She was almost angrier at herself, for allowing him into her life. Allowing him to make her fall for him. She vowed that from now on the only men that would ever be allowed to have that effect on her again would be Conner and Murphy. She was going to make Lile pay. "Please don't kill me!" He begged, covering his face. Chrys was taken aback. Was he really begging for his life? "I'm not going to kill you." She said. "If I did, I'd be just as fuckin' low as you are. I'm sure as hell goin' to make you wish you were dead, though."

He swung his leg so that it caught the backs of her knees, tripping her. "Wrong answer, bitch!" He growled, grabbing her by the collar of her shirt and giving her a hard right-hook to her face. She felt her cheekbone crack. He backhanded the other side of her face, and sent her flying across the room. She sputtered, coughing up blood onto the kitchen floor. She wasn't going to let this bastard win. Not like this. "I was plannin' on stringin' you along fer long enough to get a good fuck out o'ye." He said, picking up the bat she had let fall to the floor when he tripped her. "But you just had to go and ruin that too, huh, bitch? That's all your family was ever good for. And I'm going to make sure there's none of you left to fuck anythin' else up." He walked towards her. "And you better believe when those good fer nothin' twins come back expectin' you to be here, I'll be waitin' fer them wit me boys." He stood directly over her and raised the bat high over his head. "Say goodbye, you fucking whore." He said, spitting at her feet.

Her anger burned hotter than it had ever done before in her entire 21 years on earth. This man was done. Period. "Now why'd you have to go and say a stupid thing like that?" She asked and, punched him square in the groin. She pulled herself up off of the ground and shoved him down with her shoulder, then pulled the pistol out from her sleeve, where she'd been hiding it the whole time. It was the very same one the boys had written about in there goodbye letter, and it had been exactly where they'd told her to look.

She pointed the gun at him and loaded the chamber. "You've already taken away my family. I'm not going to give you the chance to take anyone else I love away." The only way to make sure this evil fuck would never ever come back to haunt her or hurt her boys, she knew, was to kill him. "Maith dom, a Athair,*****" She said. Then she crossed herself, and pulled the trigger.

Conner jerked up from his sleep. It was late. He'd had the most awful dream. "Conn?" He heard his brother's voice but couldn't see his face in the darkness of their apartment. "Something's wrong." Murphy finished his sentence. Conner nodded to himself and answered his other half. "Aye."

Chrysanthemum was tired. The gravity of the events that had taken place that evening and early into the morning had yet to take full effect on her sleep deprived mind. She rubbed her eyes and shifted to a more comfortable position; there weren't many, considering she was in a crate barely big enough to hold her; her bag, and several other items crammed in it with her.

She was on Billy Flannigan's boat and in transit to America. She wouldn't have known where to go if Billy hadn't agreed to take her to them. That was after he was done helping her bury the body, of course. However, he wasn't sure of their exact location in Boston, so after they reached port, she was on her own. That was fine with her. She knew it wouldn't take long for her to find them. The three of them were connected in a way that you can only understand if you yourself have shared the same conection with someone you love. She couldn't wait to make port. She wanted to be with Conner and Muphy again. More than anything.

But there was a sick feeling lurking in the back of her mind. She had killed a man that night. She had willingly ended the life of another human being, going against near everything she believed in. Even after everything he'd done she felt sorry for him, and the contrast of emotions was making her sick. How would she be able to live with herself after what she'd done? Scarier yet, what would the boys say when they found out? _That doesn't matter now._ She thought, trying her hardest to convince herself that this was indeed the truth. _All that matters is that I'll be seein' my boys soon._

*Gaelic; "Forgvive me, Father."


	8. Just like Heaven

After what seemed like forever, Chrysanthemum Flynn set foot on American soil for the first time in her life. Well, not technically soil; it was asphalt, but she couldn't complain. The sun was shining brightly at the A&K dock in Boston, MA; and it was making her squint through the huge aviator style sunglasses Billy Flannigan had given her to borrow. She would be bound to attract plenty of unwanted attention with her busted lip and huge shiner on her left eye, he had told her. He also lent her his charcoal colored tweed cap to pull her hair back into. Coupled with the fact that she was completely decked out in Connor and Murphy's hand-me-downs, anyone on the street would have no trouble passing her off as a boy who had gotten in a fight. After all, the last thing she needed were strangers asking her questions.

"Thank you so much for all ye've done for us, Billy." She hugged the man around the neck, and he responded by clapping her on the back awkwardly. "It's nothin', love. I know how much you meant to dem boys." He coughed and patted her once more on the back. She took this as a signal that he wanted her to release him. "If ye keep hangin' on me like that, everyone here's goin'the think we're a couple'a queers." Chrys fought back the urge to laugh as she looked around and realized that the two of them were indeed getting quizzical looks from the strangers milling around them. "Sorry, I'm not used to people thinking I'm a boy." She said, rubbing the back of her head, where she was used to feeling hair. "Don' worry, It will work in yer favor. Dis way no one will think to bother yeh. A girl alone in a place like this is puttin' herself in a pretty bad situation. Boston's a dangerous place, lass, and I hate te think what the boys would say if they found out I'd let their golden girl come to harm." She smiled at the man who had done so much for her and her boys. "Don't worry, Billy. They know that I'm as stubborn as an ass. Even if you hadn't helped me I would've found a way to get here." He sighed, knowing what she said was true.

Before now he hadn't known a whole lot about the girl; only that her house had burned down and she'd been living with the twins since. From the way they'd always talked about her and how bent out of shape they were when they'd left her to go to the states, he'd been able to ascertain that her life was precious to them. Now, after helping her bury the body of one of Ireland's most wanted, he felt like he had been gifted with a peek behind the curtain of a very complex young woman. He was starting to see what the boys found so irresistible about her. She was strong but somehow heart-wrenchingly fragile. Smart, but so terribly naive as well. "Well," Chrys offered Billy her hand to shake. "I guess this is goodbye then." He accepted her offer and pumped her arm up and down again. "Aye. You take care of yerself now, girlie." She nodded and turned to leave. "And tell dem boys I said 'ello when you find 'em." She smiled and told him she would.

Chrys had been walking through the crowded suburb of South Boston for hours. It surprised her how close together all of the buildings and people were; made her feel uncomfortable claustrophobic. She wasn't used to all of this activity; her norm was the quiet, open landscape of her home. On a more affirmative note, no one had stopped her to ask why she was so banged up; in fact, hardly anyone took notice of her presence amongst them at all.

Meanwhile, not far from where Chrys was now, Connor and Murphy MacManus were doing what they do best. "Get offa me!" Murphy kicked his brother away from him and continued to punch the buttons on the pinball machine they were currently fighting over. Connor attempted to shove him away from the game, but he wouldn't budge. "Fuck you, it's my turn! Ye've been playin' fer like, half an hour!" Rocco was currently giving change to the cashier at the drugstore for the soda and candy he just bought. He noticed the twins' scuffle and rolled his eyes. "Can you guys stop fighting for like, five minutes?"

"He started it!" They both yelled in conjunction. Connor finally managed to wrestle his brother away from the game and began hitting the buttons to control the levers. "You suck arse at this game anyway, Murph." Murphy waved him off. "You suck at it. You 'aven't even made any points yet!" Connor was completely focused on the game. "Oh, you jus' wait Murph, Yer lookin' at a real champion, right 'ere. You only wish you had skills like these." Rocco unwrapped his candy bar and took a bite, then watched with amusement as Murphy walked around the back of the machine and unplugged it. Any sounds that had been coming from the game ceased and the once blinking screen went blank. "Why, you little!" Connor jumped on Murphy and trapped him in a headlock. "What the fuck did yeh do that fer? I was on a roll!" He said, giving his twin a violent nookie. "On a roll where?" Murphy managed to free himself and moved away from his brother. "Faggotville?" He finished, and took a step behind Rocco for protection. "Hey now guys, keep me out of this!" Rocco put his hands up in surrender and tried to get out of the crossfire.

Connor took a quarter out of his pocket and pegged Murphy in the face with it. "Ow! What the fuck!" Murphy was about to rush Connor when the manager of the drugstore spoke up. "Alright you fucking hooligans! Get out of here before I call the police!" They all raised their hands in compliance. "Alrigh', alrigh'." The twins quipped.

Chrys collapsed on a bench in the middle of a park. It was getting dark and she was starting to panic. She never really had a set plan on how to find them, and she had never factored not being able to into the equation in her mind. She just sort of assumed all the pieces would fit into place and they would be reunited in no time. She scanned the now emptying park. Parents were gathering their kids to go home for dinner, people were jogging and walking dogs, couples walked hand-in-hand and enjoyed each other's company. And there she was, smack-dab in the middle of all of them with no American money, no plan, and no place to go.

Suddenly she felt arms wrap around her from behind and drag her off of the bench. She was too startled to scream, and even if she'd wanted to her attacker was already one step ahead of her with a calloused hand over her mouth. Whoever it was had her hauled her into an alley and threw her on the litter strewn concrete. She cried out, breaking the fall with her already sore arms. The person who had grabbed her was dressed in tattered clothes and had a long scruffy black beard. He pulled a knife from within his coat and grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, holding it against the pale skin of her throat. "Give me all your money, asshole!" He yelled at her. Chrys shoved him off her with all of her might, doing her best to avoid his sharp blade. "Get off of me!" She said. I!n a panic she threw her bag down and rifled through it until she found the gun. She held it with two hands and pointed it in his direction. Her assailant looked startled. "You're a woman?" He inquired, looking at her skeptically. If she hadn't been so panicked, she would have rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm a woman, you idiot! Now leave me alone; I don' have any American money! I just arrived in the states today!" She was trying to reason with him. She didn't want to shoot anyone else in her lifetime; but if it came to that, she would do what she had to. "That stupid fake accent ain't fooling anyone, you cunt." He caught her off guard and snatched the pistol out of her hand, then pointed it right at her. "And I don't care if you're a girl or not." She put her hands up. "Don' hurt me! What did I even do to you?"

"Shut up!" He rammed the butt of the gun against the side of her head. Chrysanthemum's vision blurred slightly before she fell to the ground. She heard the bum going though her bag and pressed her hand to her temple to stop the flow of blood. Her mind was racing. Was this really how she was going to die? Did God bear that much of a grudge against her for taking a human life? She couldn't die yet. She still hadn't found Conner and Murphy. Now she would never see them again. _Maybe I deserve this._ "Fuck!" the bum yelled when he didn't find anything of value in her bag. He kicked it across the alley and then stomped back over to Chrys, now bleeding on the ground; too beaten down to defend herself anymore. "Stupid bitch." He grumbled. "I may be a stupid bitch." She whispered. "But I would never stoop as low as attacking another person for stupid material shyte." That made him angry. Before making off with her gun, he dropped the heel of his boot on her face, knocking her out cold.

Connor and Murphy lit their cigarettes as they walked down the street towards McGinty's, which was their nightly hangout when they had nothing better to do. And that just so happened to be every day. It was then that they heard a commotion, and watched a homeless-looking man gun it out of an alley not far from where they were en route. "Woah. Where's that guy going in such a hurry?" Rocco wondered out loud. Connor and Murphy looked at the alley, and looked back at each other. "We better check it out." Murphy said, flicking his cig into the gutter. "You said it." Connor agreed.

They stumbled across quite the chaotic scene in the alley the bum had just made his escape from. There were items of clothing and such strewn about, and a man passed out on the ground who looked like he had seen much better days than this one. "Lad looks a little worse fer wear, done' he?" Connor asked, crouching down beside him to survey the damage. Murphy copied his twin's movements. "Is he dead?" Rocco meekly asked, still hovering at the mouth of the alley. Connor shook his head. "He's still got a pulse, but he's bleeding from his head somethin' awful." Murphy got up and began gathering the items littering the ground and putting them back in the bag. Connor lifted the boy into his arms and motioned for Rocco to get out of the way. "W-wait, what are you guys doing?" They both gave him an 'are you fucking retarded?' look. "We can't just leave the poor lad here." Connor said. "Aye." Murphy agreed, zipping the duffel up and slinging it around his shoulder. "How would you feel if you got mugged and someone left you bleeding in a fuckin' alley?" Rocco put his hands up in defeat. "Okay okay! Don't get all malignant on me n'shit."

Connor and Murphy headed off with the boy and the bag in the direction of Rocco's apartment. "Hey, hey, hey!" Rocco yelled, struggling to catch up to them. "Where are we going?"

"To yer apartment." Connor said. "What? Why mine? You guys have a place of your own!" They turned around and glared at him. "Quit being such a baby, Roc." Murphy said. "Our place isn't big enough, and half the time there's no hot water in our shower."

"Whatever, man." Rocco said. "But if this dick turns out to be trouble, we're kicking him back on to the street where he came from."

When Chrysanthemum woke up, she panicked. She had no earthly idea where she was or how she had gotten there. She gingerly got up off of the dingy mattress she had been laid upon and hobbled toward the door. On her way there, she passed a mirror. _Holy fuck._ She looked a fucking mess. The hat she'd had was gone, and her faux blonde hair was tangled and matted with blood. Her face was swollen to the size of a small pumpkin, and both of her eyes had been blackened. She could barely move her jaw, and she was fairly certain her nose was broken as well. However, amongst all of the green and purple bruises marring her once fair face, there was a bandage applied to the wound the bum had given her on her temple. Wincing, she touched it. It had been applied by someone who knew what they were doing.

She made her way to the front of the house, where the voices she heard were coming from. She couldn't wait to thank whoever had saved her. When she rounded the corner, she wasn't ready for the scene she saw in front of her.

Connor and Murphy were wrestling for the remote. Dammit Murph! Give me the fuckin' remote!" Murphy grabbed it from his brother and changed the channel. "Oh shut it, yer such a fuckin' baby about everythin'!" Connor threw his twin off of him, knocking him backwards into Rocco's chair and causing it to tumble over with Roc still in it.

Chrys brought her hands to her mouth as she watched the scene play out. _I'm dreaming. I've got to be._ She thought. _Or maybe I'm dead, and this is heaven._ But if this was indeed heaven, then who was that scruffy guy yelling on the floor? The thought had barely crossed her mind when the boys both turned to her, just now noticing the other person in the room. "Oi! You're awake!" Connor said, getting up. Murphy grabbed him by the arm and squeezed. "Conn." He said, not taking his eyes off of Chrys. "What, Murph?" He looked at his brother, and then returned his gaze to her. "Are you alrigh' man? You took a real beatin' from that bum-" His voice trailed off as he began to realize why his brother had stopped him. Recognition registered in both of their eyes. Chrys' own eyes had welled up so full of tears that they had begun spilling down her face. "Oh my God…" She whimpered.

The boys rushed to her and she collapsed, sobbing, into their comforting arms. "I can't believe it's you!" She cried out. "I was so scared, I-" Rocco cut her off. He had been watching this scene unfold completely and utterly unaware of what was going on. "What the fuck is all this about?" He asked. The trio ignored Rocco's inquiries. They were too wrapped up in their reunion. The boys wondered how they could have been so stupid not to recognize that it was her lying helpless in the alley. Thoughts rushed through their heads. How did she get here? How long had she been here? Why was she here? And most pressing, what soon-to-be dead motherfucker had done all of this to her?

None of that was important right this second. All that mattered was that they were together again now; after over 2 years, they were finally reunited with the only girl that would ever complete them. "I love you." She whispered to them. "I love you two so much. Please, please, don't ever leave me alone again."

"Don't worry Chrys." Murphy mumbled into her ear as he stroked her back and hair. "We're never letting you out of our fucking sight again." Connor finished, and held her tighter to his chest.

And they wouldn't. The false promises they had made to her before about not leaving were made void by the new vow they took that night. As long as their was still breath within the two of them, they would never be separated from the girl they loved ever again.


	9. Cold like Fire

_Another special thanks to all of my reviewers, shout out to HelzLckyAngl for your constructive criticism; it's greatly appreciated!_

The boys cradled Chrysanthemum in their arms, one on each side. They all lay crammed together on Murphy's mattress; Connor's sat empty, only a few feet away from the other. The trio had made their way back to the twins' flat earlier that evening; they hadn't wanted to put Rocco out any further. He'd already helped them out plenty by letting them bring a bloodied stranger into his home. Or at least, they had thought she was a stranger.

She reveled in the comfort of their lean bodies cocooning her own. She was starting to think she'd never feel peace again in her life, but here it was, breathing in sequence on either side of her. They had long since fallen asleep, but she herself had felt unable to. She chalked it up to all the time she'd spent napping on the boat ride, and the time she spent passed out in Rocco's apartment. That and she couldn't stop smiling. All the time she had spent lost she'd been thinking that fate had fallen short and was leading her astray. Little did she know fate had her reunion with the boys in the cards the whole time; she'd just been unable to see that far ahead. And she'd gotten mugged by a freaking bum. _I'm such an idiot to have let that happened._ She had let her guilt interfere with the drive to protect herself, and let a filthy street urchin get the best of her. She vowed from then on to be more savvy; quicker on her feet. That was the only way she was going to be able to keep up with this place. It was so set apart from her home; and yet, Ireland wasn't really her home anymore. This was her home. Right here, nestled between Connor and Murphy. Wherever the three of them were together would be home from now on.

Chrys used her pointer and index finger to trace the hard lines of Connor's sleeping face, admiring the way the moonlight from the window made his features look softer. He stirred slightly, and awoke, then frowned when he opened his eyes. Chrys furrowed her brow. "What's wrong?" She whispered. He shook his head and gingerly touched the bruises on her face. "I jus' can't believe I let this happen to you." She grabbed his hand away from her face and brought it to her mouth. "You did what you thought was right. I know that now." The expression on his face was still pained. "There'r so many questions I have; I mean, who did this to you? It couldn't have been-". She cut him off by pressing her lips against his. "Later." She whispered. He wasn't going to argue. Not when she was pressing herself up against him like that. "Connor," She whispered. "Aye, love?"

"Kiss me." She breathed.

He didn't hesitate. For the life of him he couldn't fathom why it had taken him so many years to do this. He caressed her every curve as they explored each other's lips. Chrys winced as his hand brushed against a sore spot and let out a pained moan. "I'm sorry." Connor said. Chrys was startled when she felt movement behind her. Murphy was awake. To her surprise, it didn't take him long to get the gist of what had roused him; it took him even less time to catch up. His mouth picked up where his brother's had left off, and he went a step further by sliding his hands beneath her shirt and caressing her flushed skin. Connor followed his brother's lead and grabbed her shirt, pulling it over her head. Both brothers paused what they were doing to take in all of the damage to her body. Purple-green bruises littered her skin, darkening significantly where it was stretched thinnest over her bones.

The brothers kissed every last injury upon her, as if apologizing for each one and promising to help it heal. She arched her back to meet their caresses. There was a hunger for them that she'd never experienced before; and she needed to explore it. She positioned herself on top of Connor and trailed kisses from his mouth and down his jaw until she reached the crook of his neck. She sucked and nibbled on the sensitive flesh she found there, and Connor moaned gruffly. Murphy pulled Chrys in his direction, urging her to give him his turn. She loved the need for her in his expression; and she did not leave him wanting. Instead of going for his neck, she left a trail of bite-marks along his pronounced collarbone. What had been one of the worst days of her life was quickly developing into one of the best she'd had. She gave them both a loving kiss on their lips and settled back in between them. It was a little more crowded, now that she had gotten them all bothered and hot; but they didn't push her any further. They knew she'd had a trying couple of days and wanted her to get as much good rest as she could. "Oiche mhaith." She murmured, burying her head into Murphy's neck, and pulling Connor close to her. "Good nigh' love." They answered.

When the boys woke up, Chrys had already managed to figure out where everything in the kitchen was and have coffee ready for them in mugs on the table. It was as if she'd never missed a beat. "Mornin' beautiful." Murphy cooed, and pecked her on the lips. "As if." She shot back, pausing to yawn. "I look like I' been mauled er somethin'." Connor placed a kiss on her mouth followed by another to her wounded temple. "You said it. I think my eyes are actually stingin' from lookin' at yeh fer too long!" She swatted at him as he and Murphy shared a laugh over their coffee at her expense. Chrys busied herself by looking through their cupboards and in the fridge for food. Besides some more coffee grounds, all she found was a pack of Ramen, a six-pack that was empty except for one half-empty can, and a bottle of mustard. She turned to the boys and crossed her arms. "Really? That's it?" They shrugged and nodded, as if the fact that they had little more than condiments and booze wasn't something worth questioning. "What do you eat?" Connor finished his coffee and burped. "We don't really eat all that often."

"Righ'. When we're not workin' we're either at Rocco's or McGinty's. We usually eat somewhere in between." Murphy said. "Oh." An uneven silence had crept into the room. She knew she would eventually need to explain herself. She just wasn't sure she was ready for that to be right now; now that everything had fallen back into its rightful place. For the most part, anyway. She wrung her hands nervously. "So I guess you two are probably wonderin' why I'm here…" She trailed off.

"Does it happen to be an arsehole by the name of Lile Cagney?" Connor asked, crossing his arms over his bare chest. Chrys was taken aback. "How…how the fuck did you know about Lile?" She couldn't fathom how they could've found out. Unless…

"Were you two keeping tabs on me?" She yelled, trying not to be peeved with them; she knew they meant well. Had they been talking to old friends behind her back all this time without actually contacting her, herself? "O'course." Murphy quipped. "Did yeh really just expect us to leave yeh be all that time without knowing what you were up teh?" Connor shot his twin a look. "That's not what it was like, 'Mum. We called down every once in a while to make sure you were alrigh'." She nodded. "I see. How much do you know about what happened?" They shrugged. "Not much." said Connor. "Ole' Wilson called us up abou' a month ago and said you'd fallen in wit' de wrong guy."

"Yeah." Murphy added. "And that you were being a real dick about it when he told you that Lile was trouble." She almost laughed. Almost. Hearing Wilson's name made guilt rise into her throat like bile. She didn't even know if he or her friends had made it out of The Anvil alive that night. "Can't we just go back to making out and not talk about this?"

The boys looked at each other, seemingly considering their options. "There'll be plenty of time fer that later." Connor decided. "Right now we need to know what happened. I mean, fer Christ's sake Chrys, look at yeh! You can't just run away and let him get away with doing that!" Connor said, his voice level rising to almost a yell by the end of the sentence. "He didn't." She said, her voice coming out as quiet as Connor's had been loud. She lowered her eyes to the grimy tile floor. Maybe if she focused on it for long enough, the conversation would just mute itself, and she would no longer have to deal with it. "We're not stupid, Chrys!" Murphy yelled. "We know he was the one who did most of that to yeh! I don't know why yer tryin to protect-". She cut the fair-skinned twin off mid-sentence. "I didn't say he didn't do this to me. He did. When I said 'he didn't', I meant that he didn't get away." The room fell silent again as the boys put two and two together. "Oh fuck." Murphy exhaled, sinking back down into his chair.

The reason she'd come away from Ireland became blindingly clear as she filled in the gaps from their two year absence. She told them everything, beginning with her debilitating despair for the first few months all the way to the end.

"He uprooted my entire life. He took away my family; and he threatened you. So, I killed him." The last few words came out as a whisper. Murphy took her in his arms. "You did the right thing, Chrys. You shouldn't feel guilty about it." Connor picked up a chair and threw it to the other side of the room. It splintered into several pieces as it crashed against the wall. "This is all our fucking fault!" Chrys moved away from Murphy's embrace and took Connor's face in her hands. "It doesn't matter now. None of it does. It's over, he's buried, and no one will find him. Even if they do, no one will fucking care." He took her hands in his own and nodded. "All that matters is that we're here, together. And now that I have you both back I'm not going to let anything spoil it."

The trio made a pact not to talk about those two years anymore, unless they absolutely had to. There was no point in dwelling upon what had happened; doing that would only give Lile power over them. They erased him from their lives and their memories. It would be like he never even existed.

The boys kissed Chrysanthemum goodbye before going off to work at the meat-packing plant. They left her in Rocco's care, at his apartment, where at least she would be comfortable and have someone to keep an eye on her while they were gone.

"Pick up some groceries on the way home, will yeh?" She called after them as they left. "If I'm goin'te be livin' here, then this mustard and beer shyte's gotta go!"


	10. Spoken For

Chrysanthemum sat at Rocco's kitchen table and twiddled her thumbs. Her twenty-second birthday was fast approaching; and she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about it. She had no idea why society had placed such a stigma on aging; wasn't getting older supposed to make you wiser, or something? She couldn't remember the last time she'd heard of someone being excited about getting older, unless it was someone coming of legal drinking age, and Chrys' had passed her by in both Ireland and the U.S. For Chrys' 18th birthday, Conn and Murph had gotten her a specialty bottle of whiskey as a joke; because she hated the way whiskey tasted.

Much to the boys' protestation, Chrys had decided that if she was going to live in Boston with them, she was going to get a job. "I don' know why you two are putting up such a fight." She had told them after they had unanimously shot her idea down. Not that there were many decisions between the two of them that weren't unanimous. "I don't know." Murphy had said, shrugging. "It makes us feel inadequate, I'spose, that you would have to get a job to make yer own money."

"It's not about the money!" She protested, throwing her hands in the air. "I mean, not that extra money wouldn't be nice," She said, thinking that clothes actually tailored for a girl might be something she wanted to try one day. "I'm more worried about going crazy from sitting around Rocco's place all day while you two are at work. I'm not the kind of person who can just sit around and vegetate. I need to be on my feet and around people." After a little deliberation the twins finally gave up their argument and let Chrys look for employment on one condition; they had to approve where she worked. "No strip clubs." Murphy had said, pointing at her in jest. "Actually, I don't know if I would mind you workin' in a titty bar, 'Mum." Connor said, grinning and elbowing Murphy in the ribs. "On second thought, I saw a nice pink sequined number in the window of a costume shop down the street I think you'd look good in. Maybe you should give dancing a try." Chrysanthemum flicked both of their noses. "In your dreams, horn dogs." She'd said, sticking out her tongue at them. "Nah." Connor said, sharing one of the looks he and his brother gave each other all-too frequently. "Our dreams about yeh are much more inappropriate."

MacDowd's Arrangements is where the three of them finally decided Chrys would work. It was a nice mom and pop flower shop owned by the sweetest old woman Chrys had ever met. Her name was Ellen MacDowd and the shop had been passed down to her by her parents who had immigrated to Boston from Ireland. Ellen's her daughter Helena helped her manage the shop part time. When Chrys had seen the opening in the wanted ads she'd called immediately; Ever since she was a little girl she'd been interested in flowers and gardening, it was a hobby her mother had shared with her and helped her improve as she grew. Ellen didn't need much convincing that Chrys was right for the job, and the fact that she had been named after her mother's favorite flower certainly didn't hurt her chances. The pay wasn't astronomical, but the work itself was fun and relaxing. Chrys helped Helena prepare arrangements and also made deliveries occasionally. She also liked the idea that by working there she was supporting locally owned businesses instead of national chains; it seemed like in the states all there was anymore were silly chain businesses like Starbucks' and Burger Kings. Things had been different back in Ireland. Although there were some national businesses, the ratio on the locally owned side was much larger, and she liked it that way.

Chrys had today off though, and was currently spending it watching daytime television with Rocco in his apartment. "You know, I'll never understand what the point of Court TV is." Rocco commented, tossing a few pieces of stale popcorn in his mouth. "If I wanted to watch two people yell and try to steal each other's money I'd put in my old home videos." This comment got a chuckle out of Chrys. Rocco was always making her laugh; well, her and just about every other person he came in contact with. That was his gift. Even though most of his humor was self-depreciating, it never failed to get a rise from those around him and brighten at least part of their day. She could tell why the boys kept him around. David Della Rocco had his faults, but he was an all around good guy; and not to mention a loyal friend to them. Chrys was stirred from her thoughts by the sound of Rocco's home phone ringing. He got up from his seat and crossed the room to answer it. "What, why?" He said into the phone, in a seemingly annoyed tone. "I just don't thin- OKAY, alright! I'll be there in a fricking minute. Jeeze."

He slammed the receiver down and looked back at Chrys. "Look, um, that was Vincenzo. He said that my boss needs me to do something." Chrys nodded. "Go ahead, Roc. Do what ye've got to do. I'm a big girl; I'll be fine. And s'ides, the boys will be back 'round to get me in a few hours." He looked visibly relieved. "Yeah. Okay. I should be back before they get here but if I'm not, make sure and apologize to 'em for me." He said, grabbing his jacket. "They'll understand, Roc. I mean, they can't just expect ye to sit on yer arse and babysit me all day. I mean, you have to make a livin' for yerself." Rocco broke out into his signature broad grin that she had come to love. Nobody could smile like Rocco, not even her boys. "Thanks for being so understanding, Chryssy." He said, placing a kiss on the top of her head. "I'll see ya later."

"Bye Roc." She said, as he exited his apartment.

There was only so much Court TV Chrysanthemum could take in one day, and sadly, Rocco's Rabbit-eared old television didn't pick up much else worth watching. She decided to go for a walk. After all, it was a gorgeous day outside, which hadn't happened often since Chrys had come to Boston. Even when the weather was nice she was almost always stuck indoors. _I'll go shopping._ She decided. She got paid every week and had saved up enough money to buy at least a few decent outfits. Chrys had been wearing Connor and Murphy's old clothes ever since she'd been adopted by them and their mother, because they were closer in size to her than their mom was. She was tired of dressing like a boy.

Chrysanthemum got up and clicked off Rocco's TV, and rummaged around until she found some old coffee stained paper and a pen to leave a note with; in case any of the boys arrived back before she did and freaked out when they discovered she was gone.

_ Boys,_

_I went out to do a bit of shopping. Will return soon._

_Xoxo, 'Mum._

Chrys left the note in the most obvious place she could think of, then exited the apartment and locked it behind her using the copied key that she had been given. She was so glad she'd decided to come out today. It was warm, breezy, and bright outside. She inhaled the fresh air around her and smiled. After browsing around in some random shops for a while, she actually found some pretty cute stuff. She ended up buying two pairs of jeans, a pair of shorts, a cute skirt, and several nice tops. She was a shoe store now, and was in the process of trying on the first pair of high heels she'd ever worn. They made her calves look amazing; but she decided not to purchase them based on the fact that she would never ever have cause to wear them in her daily life. She ended up buying a plain pair of black sneakers and some sandals, for warmer days. Finally satisfied that she had at least somewhat of a wardrobe to go on, she decided to head back to Rocco's and wait out the boys' return.

Chrysanthemum's stroll slowed to a stop as she noticed a police investigation taking place in an alleyway on her way back. There was already a pretty stout crowd of onlookers; but she was able to get a good look at what was taking place on the other side of the crime scene tape. There was one dead body lying in a pretty sizable pool of blood with what looked like a crowbar in hand, and all of the lights hanging from the two buildings that formed the alley had been busted out. Amongst the few police officers milling about there were three main detectives from the BPD conferring with each other about what may of may not have taken place.

"So here's what went down." said the tallest investigator of the three. He had short dark hair that was flecked with gray, and had started to recede. He pointed in the direction of the body with a latex gloved hand. "This dude comes outta the bar all pissed off, right? Maybe his girlfriend told him to fuck off or something. So he decides to take out his anger with that crowbar and busts out all of the lights in the alley." He said, walking over to one of said broken lights and pointing up at it. The other two detectives watched him with skeptical gazes. "So someone comes by and sees that he's bustin' out all the lights, gets angry at such an ignorant show of vandalism, and decides to make an example out of him."

"So they decided to make an example out of him by shooting him?" said one of the other two detectives. This one had longer, wavy hair. "Yeah." Said the first detective. "Yeah? Why not?" He asked, questioning himself. The third detective spoke up, the shortest of the three. "Greenly, that's the most fucking retarded theory I've ever heard." _Wow. These Boston cops sure know what they're doing._ Chrys though, internally rolling her eyes. She wondered where Detective Greenly had even gotten his license, with a bum theory like that. She couldn't help smiling to herself though; these cops were so ridiculous that it was actually kind of cute. At least they weren't the garden variety, down to business, asshole police she was used to. She hadn't been in a whole mess of trouble up to this point in her life, but the boys had. Every time she'd had experience with the 'Razzers' as the boys called them, they had been extremely rude.

Murphy had punched a cop in the face one time for slapping her ass when she'd come to bail them out of jail for getting into a bar fight several years back. He was then promptly escorted back into his cell for assaulting an officer of the law. Connor had insisted on staying in with his brother for as long as they were planning to hold him; when they told him they wouldn't allow him to do so, he punched the same officer in the face so that he'd have to stay longer as well. Reminiscing about Connor and Murphy reminded her that she needed to get back to Rocco's place before they got home and found out she was gone and made a big stink about it.

"Fuck you, Duffy! I'd like to hear you come up with a better one!" She'd heard Greenly say as she continued in the direction she had been heading before she stopped. "Alright. Here's what _really_ happened." The detectives' voices faded into the distance as she lugged her shopping bags back to Rocco's apartment.

She had barely unlocked the door and set her bags down before she was bombarded by Connor and Murphy, still dressed in the clothes they had worn to work. "Where da fuck have you been?" Connor asked, clearly upset. "Yeah, we were worried!" Murphy added. Chrysanthemum threw her hands in the air. "Are you two a pair of retards? I left a note!" She pointed to the note that she had left on the fridge; she had even used the most colorful magnets to draw more attention to it. The twins' heads both snapped toward the fridge. "Oh." They both said. "Sorry. We were just worried about yeh." Murphy said. "Aye. You could'a been kidnapped or somethin'."

"Kidnapped? Really? You guys act like I'm some kind of princess that criminals want to snatch and put up for ransom!" They both grinned, and Murphy plodded over to her, throwing her over his shoulder. "Aye, but ye're our princess!" He said, dropping her on the sofa and launching a tickle attack, which Connor excitedly joined in on. "Maybe she's righ', Murph." Connor said as his fingers wiggled back and fourth across her ribcage. "I mean, who would want to kidnap her wit' her hair dat crazy blonde color anyway?" Murphy removed one of her shoes and began assailing her foot. "Aye. I guess she decided jus' havin' the brain of a dumb blonde wasn' enough. She needed to complete the look so people could tell jus' by lookin' at her!" He quipped. "Oh my Lord! Stop it!" She was too busy attempting to kick and bite her way out of the melee to acknowledge them poking fun at her makeover. She hated being tickled. "Why should we?" Murphy asked. "Aye, it's been forever since we gave yeh a proper tickle attack! Yer way past due." Connor said, laughing along with his brother.

Chrys figured there was only one sure-fire way out of this tickle storm. Managing to free her hands momentarily, she grabbed both twins by the groin and squeezed. They both cried out in surprise; she hadn't used enough pressure to cause any real damage. "Oi!" Connor yelled. "That's no fair!" She grinned coyly. "Oh yeah?" She asked. "What about this?" Without relinquishing her grasp on either of them, she lifted her head up to nuzzle Connor's neck, before biting down. She felt his body go rigid; and she loved it. "Was that fair enough for you?" She whispered in his ear. "Oh you're in trouble." He growled. Working in sequence with his brother, Murphy pinned her down to the couch and watched as his brother mimicked what she had done to him; only he bit harder. "Mmmm…" She moaned and pulled Murphy to her, taking his bottom lip between her teeth and nibbling it softly. His breath became increasingly rough and unstable as they kissed; and Connor's hands exploring her body wasn't helping Chrys steady her breathing either. He trailed kisses down her torso and nibbled at the taut skin stretched across her hip-bone. She buried her free hand in his hair, urging him lower. She wasn't going to be able to withstand this heat growing within her for much longer. They were too wrapped up in each other to hear the front door open.

Rocco must have been standing in the threshold for a full minute before commenting. "There are so many things wrong with this situation." The trio stopped what they were doing and turned to look at their Italian friend standing dumbfounded in front of them. Murphy and Connor grinned. Chrys was completely caught off-guard, and had no idea what to say. "Would any of you be put off if I said I was turned on?" Rocco quipped, feigning seriousness. Or at least, hopefully feigning seriousness.

Connor and Murphy collapsed onto the couch laughing. However the couch, it seemed, had had enough of their shenanigans for one night; and proceeded to collapse under the combined weight of the twins and their lover. "Ow!" Chrys screamed. "Get off of me, fat ass!" She kicked Murphy in the side, trying to get him off of her bad ankle. "Hey, I'm not fat!" He faked a wounded expression. "I'm jus' big boned, ye'see." He lifted up his shirt and sucked in so far his ribs poked out in every direction.

After they had all had a good laugh, Connor and Murphy helped Rocco fix the legs of his couch. Only two of said legs were even usable anymore, so they had to improvise and prop the rest up with books and a paper weight. "Sorry about your sofa, Roc." Chrys said, clapping him on the back. "Aye." Connor said. "But at least now ye'll have a story to go along wit' it."

"What story is that? A pair of Irish twins and their smokin' hot girlfriend had an orgy so intense it broke my couch? No one would believe me." Chrys thought that over for a minute. "You're right, Roc. No one would believe you."

They continued laughing about it all the way down to McGinty's, where they spent the rest of the night enjoying themselves. Not before Chrys had a chance to change into one of her new outfits, of course. When she had put on a purple sweetheart cut tank-top and the pair of shorts she had bought, the boys eyed her hungrily. "Ah, ah, ah." She'd said, wiggling her pointer finger in their faces. "Ye've already had yer fun with me today."

"We'll jus' see abou' that." Murphy had said. Connor nodded. "Aye."

"Well if it ain't my favorite g-g-g-" Doc stuttered. "If it ain't my favorite gg-g-g, Aw fuck! Get over here, 'Mum!" He said motioning for her to come give him a hug. She hugged him around the neck and kissed the top of his head. "Hey Doc. You doing alright tonight?"

"Oh I'm f-f-fine as ever, lass." Doc and Chrysanthemum continued to chat while Murphy reached over the bar and poured shots for himself, Connor, and Rocco. They clinked their tiny glasses together and downed them one by one, without a chaser. "Hey." Rocco said, looking over his shoulder to make sure Chrys couldn't hear him. "I thought you guys said she was like your little sister, when did the three of you start boning?" Murphy pinched him and Connor punched him in the shoulder. "Ow! You two have got to stop doin' shit like that!"

"When we said sister, we didn't really mean sister, per se." Connor said. "Yeah, we meant more like cousin." Murphy added. "She's like our distant cousin, maybe a couple'a times removed." They all broke into hysterics once more, which drew Chrys' attention to them. "What are you three queers laughing abou'?" She asked, raising her eyebrow. "We were laughin' at yer gay hair." Murphy said, pouring them all another shot, and grabbing one more for her. She covered her head with her hands. "Would you two quit pokin' fun at my hair? I happen to like it." She stuck her tongue out at them, and accepted the shot glass Murphy handed to her. "You'd be'er leave my girl alone!" Doc said, pointing a warning finger in the boys' direction. "If you hur' her feelin's I'll sock ye both a g-g-g-good one." Chrys downed her shot after clinking her glass with the three boys. "Yeh heard that yeh couple o'jerks? Doc'll sock yeh both a good one, and then I'll sock yeh two more for the road!"

"Well ain't she a fire cracker." One of the other bar patrons commented to a buddy of his sitting next to him. "Yeah. Break me off a piece of that one." Connor and Murphy both spun around on one heel and pointed at the two men who were talking about Chrys. "She's spoken fer!" They growled, in stereo.

Chrysanthemum shook her head, trying to hide how much it pleased her to be defended by them. _That's my boys._


	11. Peaceful, easy feeling

_Many thanks to all my reviewers and gracious readers, How I love thee! :D I know this one is short and fillery, but I don't have the internet at home and I figured since I'd written a little bit I'd go ahead and publish it while I'm out. More to come tomorrow; I don't have class but I'll be at my mum's and she has net so look forward to more Conner and Murphy lovin' soon! _

Chrysanthemum's day thus far had been excruciatingly busy. It was an amazing feeling, to be busy; and one doesn't really figure that out until they've actually experienced how it feels to have pleasantly been so. She had been thoroughly enjoying her time in Boston with Connor and Murphy; and treated it as a whole new chapter in all their lives. Rocco was a blast, and he fit into the trio like a charm. Aside from him, Chrys had met so many new people, both through her job and at the bar.

To top off all of the fun she was having, the boys themselves had finally started to let up on treating her like such a baby; which she was eternally grateful for. She was so tired of being treated like she couldn't do anything for herself. However, she knew that taking Connor and Murphy's over-protectiveness of her as an insult or affront would be incorrect. They protected her because they'd been well brought up by their mother; raised to treat women with respect. They didn't protect her because they thought she couldn't make it on her own, but because they didn't want her to have to. They did it because they loved her. But at some point they were going to have to realize that she needed to be able to do her own thing. She was tired of being constantly watched; like a child who had been grounded. And that was exactly how they'd been treating her ever since the whole debacle with Lile; like if they left her to her own devices for just a moment, she would get into some insurmountable trouble. Part of this, she deduced, was probably overcompensation derived from leftover guilt after having left her unaccompanied for so long. Even after she'd reiterated that very few of the negative things that had taken place in her life in their absence had been directly their fault; she knew a part of them would always regret playing a part in what happened.

When she had first brought up to them that she didn't appreciate being babysat by Rocco half the time and having them watch her like twin hawks the other half; they reacted as if she had pulled it all out of her ass. "We're not watchin you like anythin', love." Murph had said. "We just worry about you, s'all." Connor added. "Well stop worrying about me." She'd told them. "I'm not alone, I live with you. We're together at least 55% of every day. How much trouble could I possible get into in the time we're apart?" They had looked at her incredulously, as if wondering whether or not that had been a serious question. However, after some discussion they began to understand where she was coming from. They honestly hadn't seen that their over-guarding had been grating on her nerves for some time. They didn't really even consider their care over her as anything to be upset over; but if it was upsetting her, they'd said, they would do their best to ease up. Now that they had, she found that it was much easier to accept and revel in her new surroundings.

Mother's day was right around the proverbial corner, which was why MacDowd's Arrangements had been so terribly swamped of late. Chrys was currently cutting and arranging a bouquet containing multicolored flowers of her name-sake, when the phone; which had been ringing off the hook all day, sputtered to life once more; emitting its shrill and obnoxious sound. Chrys made her way across the room to quell the noise before it made her bonkers. "Thank you for calling MacDowd's Arrangements, this is Chrys. How can I help you?" She rattled off the opening line she had memorized._ "Oi!"_ Murphy's voice sputtered at the other end of the line. "Hey Murph, what do you need? I'm really busy."

"_Oh. Sorry love, me n' Connor were just wonderin' what time you get off this evening." _Her eyes shot to the big daisy shaped clock on the wall. It was 3:45 p.m. "Well it's mid-week, and not to mention it's almost Mother's Day, so we're really busy. I probably won' end up getting out until seven-ish." She heard a muffled thud as what she could only assume was his hand covering the receiver. _"Conn says tha's fine. Mother's day is actually what we called to ask abou'. We're goin to pick out somet'in to send to Ma, and we wanted you to come wit' us."_ Every year since coming to live with them, Chrys had been the one that picked out their mom's gifts on Mother's Day. The tradition had started when, shortly after having come into their home, they asked her if getting her a new toaster would be a good mum's day present. She asked them if they had been developmentally delayed at birth, or if it had been a gradual result of alcohol abuse. She had no idea what it was with boys, and why they had such a hard time picking out presents for people. It didn't even have to be Mother's Day. It was her general deduction that most men just lacked the mental processing required to come up with well thought-out gifts. Not all of them though, mind you. Some guys were awesome at gift-giving. However, Connor and Murphy MacManus had been and probably always would be a part of the former group; this was why they always entrusted their Mother's Day gift choices to her, and she never failed to deliver results. "Oh so you mean I'm going to pick out gifts for her and you two will just happen to be in the same general area as me?" She heard Connor tell his brother to give him the phone. _"Don't be such a dick! We always help you pick the presents, at leas' a little!"_

"Uh huh. Yeah." She said, trying to get a rise out of him. With Connor, doing so was never a difficult task. _"Dammit woman! Don' make me come through this phone and kick you in yer arse!"_ He yelled. "Oh quit it, Conn. You're such a baby. I'm just kidding with you, duh I'll come help pick out Ma's gifts. And don' call me woman, _Man_." There was more muffled thumps as Murphy re-claimed the phone from his hot-headed brother. _"Alrigh'. We'll be by in Roc's car to pick yeh up at seven-thirty."_ He told her. "Okay. I should be done by then; but I have to get back to work now."

"_Aye, love. See you then." _

Seven-thirty rolled around and Chrys said goodbye to her boss and her daughter. "G'night sweetie!" Ellen replied, shooing her out the door. "Have a good night, I'll see yeh bright and early tomorrow mornin'! We've many a delievery to make!" Chrys nodded and got into the back-seat of Rocco's car with Connor. Murphy had apparently called shot-gun. Connor kissed her and put his arm around her shoulders as they made their way off to find good gifts. In the end, Chrys picked out a small, potted ficus tree to be from Murphy, and an expensive 32 year old bottle of Speyburn Malt Scotch Whiskey in a specialty tin to be from Connor. She had already gotten her own gift together for Ma; an arrangement of lovely silk flowers in a hand-made and painted clay vase. She would send all of their gifts off the next day so that they would hopefully make it back to Ireland on time.

After they were done shopping, they settled down at their nightly roost and had a few beers. Well, the boys had beers. Along with her distaste for whiskey, Chrys also had no love for beer. She preferred wine, or mixed drinks. She lay her head down on the bar next to her glass of white zin and surveyed the scene around her. There was Doc, chatting with bar patrons; giving out mixed proverbs and stuttering himself silly, her boys playing keep-a-way with Rocco's left shoe, while he hopped around them on one foot. She took a minute to be thankful for times like these, with nothing serious in her life for her to worry about. In this life, she knew all too well, such times were few and unfortunately far between.

She smiled to herself, and caught the eyes of Connor and Murphy. They smiled back with an almost eerie understanding. It had been a good day.


	12. Tear you Apart

Chrysanthemum's twenty-second birthday came in early June and went off without a hitch. The boys ended up throwing her a surprise party at McGinty's, and invited all of her co-workers and friends. The best part, however; was the gift they got her. It was a silver bracelet with the words 'Go deo Le cheile' engraved on the interior; and had a Celtic knot work design with emerald inlay. They'd told her they had been saving up for it pretty much since they'd gotten their job at the meat-packing plant, knowing then that they wanted a grand gift for the first birthday they spent reunited with her. She cherished it and swore to herself and to them that she would never take it off. Among the other gifts she received were more clothes, and a few household items. She had been particularly grateful for the straitening iron Helena MacDowd had bestowed upon her.

The heat of the summer in Boston was excruciating. Irish weather witnesses very few extremes as far as temperature; and while the boys had already gotten used to the full-blown torridity, Chrys had spent her first summer in Boston in almost extreme discomfort; her clothes were constantly dampened with sweat.

Fall turned out to be much nicer, although still far more heated that any previous autumn she had experienced. Halloween was a blast; She and the boys had attended several costume parties dressed as Batman, Robin, and Poison Ivy. Connor thought that Chrys should dress up as Cat-Woman instead, and told her so. Chrys retorted that he just wanted to see her in black vinyl. "Touche." Was all he'd been able to come up with for a reply. To make her costume more convincing, Chrysanthemum decided to dye her hair back to her natural color to match Ivy's locks. She didn't get the original shade just right; it turned out a little lighter due to the fact that she'd dyed it on top of her bleach job. "Now that yer back to bein' a ginger, we can stand to be seen in public wit yeh again." Murphy had quipped, earning him a hard thump on the nose.

By the end of the night, Chrys turned out to be surprisingly inebriated. She had lost track of how many drinks she'd had, and the boys were too busy loading themselves up with booze to do so either. She didn't drink often herself, limiting herself to one or two when she, Connor, Murphy, and Rocco were out because more often than not, all three of them would get so trashed that she'd end up as the one to cart them all back to Rocco's house. When it was just her and the boys it wasn't as crucial that she stay sober because they would just walk home. She still liked to keep a handle on her sobriety though, in order to help Connor and Murphy stumble their way down the street.

In a startlingly entertaining reversal of roles, Chrys staggered through the streets of Boston in the wee hours of morning, sandwiched in between Connor and Murphy, who were struggling with their own drunkenness to support her. "Y'know?" she spoke up suddenly. "I really like peanut-butter." Connor gave her an incredulous look. "What are yeh babblin' about, woman?" he said, honestly wondering what the hell peanut-butter had to do with anything.

"I'm not babbling, you jerk head!" she yelled right in his ear, causing him to lose his balance and let go of her. She let out a cry of surprise before falling into Murphy and knocking him on his ass as well. Connor made a hilariously sad attempt to stay oh his feet, but ended up tripping over Chrys' gaudy green boot-clad leg. The trio lay there in a pitiful pile for a few minutes, none of them able to muster up enough motivation to get back up and keep moving. "I can' believe you called him a jerk face." Murphy mused. "Aye. I mean, living around us as long as she has you'd think we would have taught her some more effective insults." Connor wondered aloud. Chrys' tried in vein to mute their voices. Her head was swimming; if she held her eyes open for too long, she became sick to her stomach, and if she tried to close them for too long, it felt like she was riding a really loopy roller coaster blindfolded. It reminded her of a very unpleasant mixture of car-sickness and food poisoning. "I think I might be sick." She slurred, slapping a clumsy hand over her mouth, to impede the inevitable vomit that was threatening her. "I do believe tha's our cue, Conn." Murphy said, attempting to get out from underneath the dog-pile without tipping Chrys onto the pavement. "Aye. You get her arms, and I'll get her legs." Connor said, removing himself from the pile as well and began gently lifting Chrys from the street with Murphy's help. He held her from under her knees, while his twin supported her with each of his arms under her arm-pits. They received many incredulous stared from passers-by; and with good reason. Two equally drunk super heroes dragging a seemingly unconscious villainess down the sidewalks of South Boston at three in the morning was quite questionable; even if it was Halloween. As inconvenient as it was to lug her across town, the boys were thoroughly enjoying themselves. Connor found it particularly entertaining that Chrys had managed to get so drunk without any assistance from either of them. Murphy thought it was about time she was the more hammered of the three.

When they finally reached their destination, the boys tossed Chrys down on their mattress, before collapsing on either side of her. None of them bothered to attempt getting undressed. Her sickness had subsided a little, and for that she was grateful. If there was one feeling she wished to experience as little as possible in her life-time, it was being so sick she had to throw up. She hated how her body reacted before the fact; how all of a sudden she would get uncomfortably warm, then her mouth would begin to water uncontrollably and she could feel the vomit rising from the pit of her stomach. She shuddered. It almost made her sick all over again just thinking about it.

The thoughts of sickness managed to quell themselves as her mind began to fill with other alcohol-induced thoughts. She pictured Connor handcuffed to a bed, little but a sheet covering his lightly tan skin. Not their bed, mind you; considering it was a mattress on the floor. Her mental picture shifted to Murphy's soft lips, and how they sent electric pulses across her skin when he used them against her. She grinned, feeling more than a little naughty. Murphy took notice of her sudden Cheshire smile and inquired about it. "What are you so proud about?" She uttered a noise that can only be described as half giggle, half sputter; that one can only accomplish when inebriated. Murphy raised his eyebrow. "Shut up, you two! My head is splittin'." Connor mumbled.

"You really want to know?" she asked, sitting up in the dark; not even attempting to lower her voice for Connor. He'd be fine. Murphy nodded, gazing at her intently. God, how she loved that face. Before she could stop herself, she had lifted her hand to it; almost as if she had to ground herself and make sure it was real. She adored how his features were so soft and feminine, but somehow hard at the same time; as if God himself had carved it out of some mystical stone. He placed his hand on top of hers; the touch sending heat and electricity all through her arm. It was entertaining to her how such a small gesture from him could have such a lasting effect on her body.

She crawled over to him, and in one swift move, brought one leg over to the other side of his body, leaving her straddling him. His hands involuntarily moved to grasp her hips; then slowly crept up under her costume's top to her breasts. "Mmmmh" she uttered a small sigh and bent down, pressing her lips hungrily into his, taking his bottom lip between her teeth and biting down. He loved it when she did that. Murphy pouted when she removed her lips from his own; she gave him a devious smile before raking her nails down the length of his torso, leaving agitated red streaks in their wake. His breathing started to come out in haphazard sighs as she began to unbutton his pants. She was getting too excited; and she found herself unable to wait any longer. She flecked her brown eyes to his; and in that split second he sensed her intentions to go further then they had before.

He inhaled sharply as she took him in her hands and positioned herself on top. His exhale came in the form of a deep moan when she slid all of him inside of her. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before; and she couldn't stop herself from uttering moan after passionate moan in sequence with this gentle thrusting hips. The knot forming in her abdomen became impossibly tight and she felt her back arch, trying to lessen the pressure he was steadily building, she kept her eyes on his; enjoying the need for her she saw in his gaze, almost pleading. She steadied herself with one hand on his navel, and placed the other just below his throat. She could feel his pulse throbbing under her hand, becoming more and more frantic as he felt himself growing closer and closer to his finishing point; but he wanted to give hers to her first.

Connor had been half asleep up to this point; but Chrys and his twin's combined utterances of ecstasy had awoken him, bringing him to realize that he hadn't been dreaming after all. When he realized what was going on, he didn't miss a beat. His desire for her body swept the cobwebs of drowsiness away; he roughly grabbed Chrys by the jaw and his mouth crashed upon hers, dominating it. Murphy could stand it no longer and climaxed beneath her; relinquishing control to his brother, who took the lead with delight. He, however, would not be so gentle with her. He wasn't as good as his brother at denying himself what he wanted, and he had wanted her like this for so long. He took her by the shoulders and tossed her down onto the mattress beneath him. She was surprised at the intensity with which he took his brother's place; hell, she hadn't even known he was awake.

His mouth found her collar-bone as he fumbled to get the rest of their clothes off, and he bit down; causing her to inhale sharply. Before she had recovered, he thrust into her hard; and their hips crashed together. It hurt, she was sure she would have bruises tomorrow; she found herself in love with the mixture of pain and pleasure; how every inch of him filled her with a warmth that would never be mimicked. He took her leg behind the knee and pressed on, unrelenting as his hips kept up a hard driving rhythm. She cried his name over and over; loving the way it sounded coming from her lungs almost as much as it turned him on to hear her scream for him like that. She felt an almost desperate feeling of panic come over her as her climax rose within before breaking the surface; she almost screamed, but Murphy covered her mouth with his, accepting her frantic panting into his own lungs.

Connor collapsed on the sheets next to her; panting nearly harder than she was. His arms joined Murphy's, wrapped around their lover in a kind of twisted and beautiful ownership. Murphy buried his face in the crook of her neck and kissed her there, while his brother rested his head on her breastbone, the sweat from his brow mixing with her own. Chrysanthemum had never been more in love with the two of them than she at that moment. "J'aime mes garcons." She whispered her love for them in french. Murphy responded in German. "Ich liebe dich auch, Chrys." and Connor, in Italian. "Sempre." He whispered sweetly. It made Chrys smile. Something told her they would never be as happy together again as they were now; and it made her cherish the moments leading up to unconsciousness all the more. One by one, the inseparable trio fell asleep wrapped in each other's embrace; just as they had so many nights before.

They shared a rather chummy thanksgiving with Rocco at McGinty's; It wasn't a holiday that was celebrated in Ireland, but the boys jumped at any excuse to get so stuffed they were in danger of going into a food-induced coma. Chrys used some old MacManus family recipes she had learned from their mother and made a boat-load of delicious food for the Boys, Rocco, and anyone else who decided to spend their Turkey Day at the quaint little Irish pub.

Christmas was by far Chrys' favorite holiday spent with her twins that year. They'd gone to Mass early in the morning and spent all day watching sappy specials on TV at Rocco's place. They had bought a cute little plastic-leaved tree and set it up there; using a few store-bought ornaments and a whole lot of baubles that had been made by the three of them with naught more than Elmer's glue, construction paper, and the occasional sequin. Rocco even made a few poorly constructed contributions. "It's the thought that counts, right?" He offered, when Chrysanthemum had eyed one of his pieces with particular disdain. She shrugged and patted him on the back, saying she supposed he was right. Even though none of them had much money to get very expensive gifts, anything given to one another, no matter the cost, would have been considered precious.

March rolled around again after a very precarious winter that had lasted well through to the end of February. Chrys hadn't been sad to see it go for the same reason she hadn't enjoyed the Boston heat. Irish winters were seldom more than mild.

Chrysanthemum awoke on one fateful St. Patrick's Day to sun streaming through the blinds, reflecting sectioned lines upon her pajama-clad body. She rubbed her eyes and stretched lazily; much like the gray and white cat that Rocco's absentee girlfriend had recently dumped on him to take care of. It took her a few minutes to realize that something was amiss. The two warm, lean bodies that enveloped her every night weren't there this morning. Panic rose into her throat, strangling her momentarily. Her head whipped around the room. _Where are they?_ It was the weekend, and none of them worked. There was no reason for them not to be there. Ever since the three of them had reunited they'd never just not been there. It wasn't like them to disappear on her…Oh wait.

She realized how silly she was being by freaking out. _I'm sure they just went out for a bit._ She took a deep breath and got up from the mattress, letting the sheets she had just been tangled up in slide to the floor. She searched the flat for a note; any explanation as to why they hadn't woken her to tell her they would be out. Her breath came out in a hiss or relief. The thin paper she found crinkled in her hand as she brought it close enough to her sleepy eyes to read. On it, Connor's nearly illegible scrawl informed her that they'd gone out for a bite to eat with Rocco, and would be back when they were through. She sighed, relieved. She should have known that it wasn't anything serious; they were just out with Rocco. But there was a panic that had conditioned itself within her that was leftover from their abandonment. She brushed the feeling away; it was nonsense after all. They wouldn't dare leave her again, if they knew what was good for them.

Chrys showered and dressed while she waited for the boys to return, sweeping her red hair into a braid on either side of her head. She decided to put on a black cotton sun-dress she had gotten for her birthday, but hadn't had cause to wear before now. She knew that they would just end up at McGinty's tonight, like they did most other nights, but St. Paddy's always made her feel like she needed to dress up a bit.

She greeted Connor and Murphy with a kiss when they came in; and gave Rocco a hug. "Will you tell me you're goin' to be gone next time?" she pleaded. "I almost shit a fuckin' brick when I woke up and you two weren't here." Murph told her they were sorry, they just hadn't wanted to wake her up. "Aye. You were sleepin' like that chick from that kid movie." Connor said, to which Rocco replied. "You mean Sleeping Beauty? I loved that movie when I was a kid!" The boys both looked at him, hoping he wasn't serious. Chrys covered her mouth with her fist, trying to stifle the laughter about to break through. Rocco attempted to salvage what little pride he had left by stammering "I-uh, I mean- I've um…never even seen that movie. That shit's gay."

_The gaelic phrase on her bracelet means "Forever together." After she says "I love my boys" in French, Murphy says "I love you too, Chrys." In German, and Connor says "Always" in Italian._


	13. Just a Girl

Chrys shoved Murphy against the grimy bathroom wall of McGinty's pub, causing his breath to leave him audibly. "Somebody's feisty toni-" she cut him off by forcing her lips onto his. She had been in the mood since she woke up that morning, but hadn't yet had an open chance to steal one of the boys away. When the three of them had arrived at McGinty's that evening, she surreptitiously signaled Murphy to follow her to the back of the bar. Connor had been too busy betting a regular he couldn't shoot down three double tumblers of Jager faster than himself. She and Murphy had disappeared into the bathroom before they'd had a chance to see how that turned out; though she didn't have a hard time guessing who would lose.

Murphy's hand wandered up Chry's thigh and under her skirt, finding their way under her cotton underwear. She exhaled sharply into his mouth as he slipped his fingers inside of her. "You're such a tease." She whispered hotly into his ear. "Aye." He agreed. "Admit it though, you love it." He said, flashing her a devilishly sexy grin. As much as she did hate to admit it, she loved being teased by him almost as much as she loved it when he gave in to what she wanted right away. And he was so terribly good at stringing her desire along until she was almost to her breaking point; much better at it than Connor, who was just as impatient as she. She didn't mind though, the fact that the boys were so different only made it that much better; things never got old, and they never failed to surprise her.

The two of them walked back to the main bar-area hand in hand. Connor eyed them suspiciously, wondering where they had been and what up to; though not having to ask to know. He took hold of Chrys' forearm as she walked past and whispered roughly in her ear. "You bein' a bad girl?" She smiled and kissed his lips seductively; he hated being teased as much as she loved it. "Don' worry baby. There will always been plenty of me to go around." She took a seat between her boys, and asked Doc sweetly if he would mix her a drink. "Anythin' for my g-g-g." he stammered. "Anythin for my g-g, oh FUCK! Anythin' for you, Chrys." He finally managed to get the rest out. _Good ole' Doc._ She thought, smiling to herself.

They were all enjoying the jovial atmosphere that can only be experienced at a truly Irish pub on St. Paddy's, when "Hey Fuck-Ass, get me a beer!" echoed into the foyer. Chrys turned to face Rocco, who had just entered McGinty's with his signature puppy dog grin pasted across his stubble-ridden face. She and the twins had separated from him earlier on in the day; he'd said Yakavetta had a job for him. "It's a righ' shame, them making ye work on St. Paddy's." Connor had said. Murphy had agreed, saying that no one should have to work on St. Paddy's, or the day after, seeing as excruciating hangovers would be an inevitability.

Their boss rained on their proverbial parade, however, by calling one of them into work because some other Irish douche bag had picked the day he was supposed to be training a new employee to no call-no show. They both decided to go in, though they didn't really want to. Work is money, they'd said, and they definitely needed plenty of that. Chrys had nearly laughed her mouth clean off when Connor had come home with a shiner and a sore nut sack; he hadn't minded when she'd helped him put ice upon said injured testicles, however. Murphy, on the other hand, had never been in such a good mood and couldn't stop boasting the fact that he'd punched an angry lesbian in the face. Chrys tsk-tsked him for hitting a girl, even if it did happen to be a vehement feminist that, from how they described her, likely outweighed them all combined. Connor even went as far to tell their Mom on the phone that the woman in question must have been 'Pre-opping' it.

Chrys had overheard their mother telling them that their uncle Sibeal had taken over The Anvil, and that the bar wasn't doing very good business these days. Chrys asked them what had happened to Wilson. She felt bad about not really thinking more about it before now; he had given her a job and taken good care of her while the boys had been gone. Connor and Murphy had shaken their heads at her, saying that Wilson had recently passed of lung-cancer; they just hadn't had the heart to say anything about it. She was sad for his passing, but glad that he had made it out of the bar alive that night. She wouldn't have been able to live very well with knowing she had any part in the kind old man getting hurt. She crossed herself and said a prayer for him, promising him that she'd go visit his grave one day soon.

Now that Rocco had arrived, the fun could really begin. It was funny how his presence could brighten up a room and fill it with laughter. Chrys often told him he had a gift; but he argued with her tooth and nail about it. He would say his hilarity was more of a curse than something to brag about, and no one ever took him seriously. She had kissed him on the cheek and told him that she took him seriously, and the boys did too; that's all that mattered. Things were thrown and jokes were told, most at the expense of others. They all drank, smoked (excluding Chrys), and beat the hell out of each other in jest; and sometimes not so much in jest; Until the bar had begun to empty, and Doc quieted them all down to explain some rather troubling news; The Russian mob had been buying up all of the locally owned properties in the area, he said, and they were threatening his lease as well. Rocco offered that maybe his boss, Yakavetta, could do something about it. Seeing as the Italians were just as opposed to the Russians as anyone else. He was trying to be helpful; as always, but everyone agreed that involving the Italians in the Russian mob's affairs probably wasn't the best of ideas, and would likely only worsen the situation.

"Don't you worry about a thing, Doc." Chrysanthemum told him, patting the old man's hand. "We're not gonna let anythin' happen to the bar." Connor and Murphy nodded in agreement. She didn't know exactly what they would do to prevent it from happening, but she and her boys would come up with something. They always did. And besides, this was their home away from home; and not just theirs. Without McGinty's there would be many a patron without a place to wind down after work, or wherever it was they spent their long Boston days. It was one of the only pubs of its kind left in the area. There would still be plenty of pubs, but none of them were quite as traditional and down-homey as Doc's, and most of them were stupid faux-Irish and Scottish chains.

Chrys was stirred from her troubled thoughts by the door to the bar opening and closing behind them. She turned around in her seat to get a better look, as three rather large and gaudily dressed thugs walked into McGinty's like ducks in a line, and slowed to a stop behind them. Connor and Murphy turned to see what she and everyone else were looking at. The one in the middle of the three, who was by far the most intimidating, spoke up. "I am Ivan Checkov, and you will be closing now." Ivan began slowly removing his black leather gloves, finger by finger, to reveal one big, meaty hand and a silver pinky-ring. There was an awkward silence. No one really knew what to make of these bozos. Chrys was having particular trouble digesting the thug on the left, with his crazy blue blazer and yellow track-suit underneath; who also happened to be the only one of the trio with hair.

She laughed along with Connor, Rocco, and the other couple of guys that remained when Murphy cracked a Star Trek joke about Checkov's last name, and joined in when the boys tried to alleviate the stress of the situation by offering the gangsters a drink. "Why don't you m-make like a tree, and get the fuck ou'tta here!" Doc stammered one of his signature mixed proverbs with an angry scowl upon his usually welcoming face. "He's got until the end of the week. You don't have to be hard asses, do yeh?" Connor asked, wishing these thugs would just leave already. He didn't feel like getting into a scrap on St. Paddy's, he just wanted to have fun with Murph, Chrys, and Roc. But if push came to shove, he was prepared to crush these faggots. "Yeah," Chrys agreed, nodding. "We can work something out with you guys later." Murphy asked them to pull up a stool and have a drink, but the mood turned deadly serious when Ivan knocked their own drinks from their hands and said "This is no game! If you don't go, we will make you go." The boys gave each other a look of shared disgust. They'd had enough of this asshole and his two cronies. Chrys was just as fed up as they were. Why did they have to pick on a sweet old guy like Doc, who'd probably never wronged anyone in his entire life? Her thoughts jumped back to Wilson and her mood dropped further. Guilt still lurked in the back of her mind, and it was making her that much more protective of the white-haired Irishman standing behind her. These losers were not taking McGinty's without a fight.

Connor told him so, explaining that the three thugs were obviously outnumbered. This only angered Ivan further, and he was in the middle of another spiel about how he was going to make them leave, when Rocco did a very stupid thing. "What would you do if I told you," he began, waving his hands around drunkenly. Chrys saw where this was going and tried to signal him so quit while he was ahead; but he kept going. "that your pinko commie mother sucked so much dick, her face looked like an egg?" _Fuck._ There was a sickening thud of skin against skin when Ivan threw a hard right hook to Rocco's face, knocking him into Chrys, causing them to both crash backwards into the bar. She heard the boys yelling at Ivan in Russian that he had just made a big mistake. Her back hurt from the contact it had made with the hard wood of the bar. "You okay, Roc?" She asked, helping him back to his feet. "Yeah, I think so." He answered, holding his cheek. Chrys kissed it, as if to make the pain go away, and watched the boys do a shot while the Russians looked on, confused.

She knew what was coming, and would be damned if she wasn't going to take part in beating these stupid fuckers. A full blown melee broke out before her eyes. Every patron of McGinty's launched an assault on the three Russians to protect the bar and the owner of it that they loved so much. Chrys' knuckles screamed as she felt her fist connect with the jaw of one of said cronies. Not Ivan, but the other bald one. She wasn't going to let them get out of here so easy, and if they thought she was afraid to put up a fight just because she was a woman, they had another thing coming. Using his shoulders as support, Chrys jammed her knee into the gut of the man she had just punched. He immediately doubled over and Connor took over by letting his elbow fly downward into his spine, then shoulder-checked him full-force into the mirror in the corner of the room, shattering it. Meanwhile, Murphy had just smashed the thug in the ridiculous blue and yellow getup on either side of his head with two full bottles of wine. Chrys jumped over the bar and grabbed the bat that Doc kept behind it, then rushed Checkov with it and got a good hit to his shoulder. She reared back and prepared to hit him again, this time catching him in the knee-cap. "You fucking bitch!" he spat, and before she could duck, his closed fist smashed into the left side of her face. She tried to keep her balance but flew backward and tumbled into and over one of the bar stools; the bat she had been holding clattering to the ground. Connor and Murphy were on him before he knew what happened. No one laid hands on her but them, and they intended to make him regret doing so immensely.

Chrys rubbed her now throbbing jaw and spit out a cheek full of blood onto the floor, then swung her foot across it to trip the third thug who was attempting to catch her off-guard. He hit his head on the bar stool she'd just tripped over, and was out cold before he even hit the floor. The boys had finally overcome Checkov, and tied his arms and legs to the bar. _This is going to be interesting._ Murphy put his arm around her and kissed her injured cheek. "You okay, love?" She smiled and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, leaving it between his lips. "Never been better. Not sure I've had more fun in my life." She said, jovially. Connor laughed and came over to her, kissing her lips. "That was amazing darlin'! Who knew you had it in yeh?"

Several other guys who had been in on the fight nodded in agreement, and congratulated her. "I wish my girlfriend was as ballsy as you!" a very short man with a bandanna covering his head and a green shirt on had said, clapping her on the back. Chrys sat on Murphy's lap and laughed with everyone else when Connor poured Bacardi onto the seat of Ivan's pants, then set it aflame with a match Murphy had handed him. Doc seemed apprehensive about the whole ordeal. He was worried about the bar and didn't want anymore trouble; but was proud of everyone for taking such good care of him. Before she, Rocco, and the twins took their leave, Chrys hugged Doc around the neck. "See old man? I told you me n' my boys wouldn't let nothin' happen to the yeh." He nodded. "Thanks fer t-t-takin' a hit fer me, lass. FUCK! ASS!" he spat, a fluff of his white hair flying up and down with the motion of his head when he said the words. They all shared another good laugh on what had turned out to be a pretty damn eventful St. Patrick's Day. "You said it, Doc." Murphy said.

The three of them saw Rocco off before making their own way home. "You sure you're okay, Chryssy? You look pretty banged up. I didn't even know you could fight like that." She laughed and nodded. "I'm a big girl, Roc. I can take care of meself. I could say the same thing to you though, you outta put some ice on tha' shiner." He grinned. "Yeah, yeah, it ain't nothin'. I just bruise easily as all." They all gave him a goodbye hug and then set off arm-in-arm in the opposite direction, towards their little hole in the wall.

The trio hung their rosaries on their respective nails at the front door, and Connor flipped the light on. Chrys went over to the mirror she had hung near the shower to survey her own damage. She had a black eye, busted lip, and bruised cheekbone. It was nothing she couldn't handle. She'd been beaten much worse before, and she had always had a surprisingly high tolerance for pain. Connor came over to her and laid his hand at the small of her back, kissing the top of her head. "Yeh did a good job tonight, Chrys." Murphy walked over and picked her up over his shoulder, then laid her gingerly down on the bed. She was glad he hadn't been too rough, her back and ribs were sore from flying and tripping around. "Aye girlie." Murphy added. "How did you know Doc had a bat under the bar?" She shrugged and Connor walked over to the bed, sat down, and began removing his boots. "I heard him talking about it once. Someone asked him if he had a gun or something to keep robbers or rowdy patrons in order, and he said that he kept a bat because he was afraid of guns." Murphy nodded and began removing his own shoes. "S'prally a good idea. With Doc's fits, I dunno if he'd end up shooting at the righ' person!" Connor said, laughing. Chrys punched him in the arm. "Leave that poor old man alone."

"Alrigh', alrigh'." He said, taking his shirt off and positioning himself on the bed next to her. "Do yeh reckon it's my turn now?" He asked, referring to her and Murphy's tryst in the bathroom earlier that night. "Hmmm. I don't know if you deserve one." She said, flicking his nose lovingly. Murphy laughed and laid down on her other side. "Aye, Conn. She likes me more anyway." He stuck his tongue out at his brother. "Why you little!" Connor reached across Chrys and smacked Murphy in the ear. "That fuckin' hurt!" Murph yelled, and gave his brother a similar thwap to the side of the head. Before they could turn this into one of their little wrestling matches, Chrys grabbed both of their arms. "Stop fightin' over me, you two are like little kids!"

Connor gently pulled her dress over her head, with Murphy's help. "We're goin'te be fightin' over you for the rest of yer life, whether you like it or not." Connor said, tossing her dress to the floor like a used candy wrapper. Murphy kissed her sweetly, his skilled hands roaming her body; taking care to be gentle in the spots that she was sore. Removing her bra with one hand, he placed kissed on both of her breasts, making her shiver with anticipation. She wanted them, bad. Connor trailed hot kisses from her breast-bone to her belly button, and removed her underwear in one swift movement; tossing them in the same direction he had discarded her dress. His impatience took over and he fumbled with his jeans. Once he had managed to dispose of them he buried himself inside of her, while Murphy took her arms and restrained them behind her. He watched his twin hungrily take their lover, letting his own desire to have his turn with her build. When Connor had finished they switched places, and Murphy made love to her while Connor pinned her down and kept her upper half busy.

They lay together after the fact, sweat dripping down all of their now exercised bodies. Chrys took the sheet from under herself and wiped her face off, then reached over to Connor and Murpy one after the other, doing the same. Murphy saw worry cross Chrys' face, and inquired about it. "Wha's the matter, love?" She let out a sigh, her breathing still heavy. "Do you think the Russians will be back to the bar?" she asked. Connor propped himself up on one elbow, and wrapped the other arm possessively over Chrys' mid-section. Murphy busied himself playing with her hair, and thought about her question. He wasn't sure if the three particular mobsters they had roughed up today would be back, but after they told their boss about what happened, they were sure to send more thugs to McGinty's. Who knew if they would be there to protect Doc next time around? Connor looked his brother in the eye, thinking similar troubling thoughts. "Doesn' matter." Murphy finally heard himself answer. "Aye." Connor said, burying his still sweat moistened face into her neck, leaving a kiss there. "We'll give 'em another run for their money." He said. Their words made her feel better. There was no use worrying about it, anyways. When the time came, they would figure out what to do. She lay her head down and let sleep take her away to a place where she didn't have to worry about the fate of the people she cared about.

The next morning Chrys made coffee for the three of them, and they had all just finished taking a shower together. She was always apprehensive about showering in their flat; the shower, which was really nothing more than a big shower-head, was completely out in the open, and there was a giant window that anyone could see through, if they wanted. Even though the apartment was several stories up, there was always a chance of someone getting a peek, right? She got dressed in cut-off shorts and a blue t-shirt to go to MacDowd's; but the boys were still clad in their bathrobes, sitting on their beds. _At least they put their boots on._ She thought, rolling her eyes. They were required to work every other Sunday, and since they usually went to early mass the two obligations never ended up interfering with each other. They had wanted to sleep their hangovers off today, however, so they were planning on going to work first and attending mass later that evening. "Come on, if you bums don't hurry the fuck up you're gonna be late fer-" She was cut off by the door to their apartment being kicked open. Everything seemed to slow down, and the boys' heads whipped towards the still ridiculously dressed Russian, and Ivan Checkov, who had rushed into the room with a gun bearing the communist hammer and sickle symbol engraved into it. He pointed it in the twins' direction and hobbled toward them.

"Freeze, you fucking Irish faggots!"


	14. Guernica

_I know it's short, please don't come after me with pitch forks. I got some kind of upsetting news today and didn't have a lot of time to write, but I didn't want to make you guys suffer for it, so here is what I've got so far. Love ya'll! _

Chrys Froze. A million scenarios played out in her head of the things she should be doing in this situation; rushing Checkov and hoping not to get shot, finding a weapon to defend them all with, hiding, ducking, jumping out the fucking window, anything. _Do something! _But she couldn't. Her feet wouldn't move; She winced, feeling her lover's pain, when Checkov pistol whipped Connor, and watched in horror as he forced him to lock handcuffs around his own wrists behind their toilet. _This can't be happening. _She thought, worried about the blood dripping down his face. It was only when she looked up, across the room and saw the other Russian put Murphy on his knees with a gun pressed to his temple that she was able to take any kind of action.

In the back of her mind she heard Checkov hissing menacing threats to Connor, but didn't bother listening to the actual words being exchanged. Spinning on her heel, she ran full speed towards Murphy; intending to knock the mafia soldier off of his feet. She needed to get that gun away from his head, now. "Not so fast, Wonder-Bitch!" The mobster in the yellow track suit with the now-bandaged head pointed his gun at her, threatening to pull the trigger. _Fuck!_ Murphy gazed up at her with a look that said_ Don't do anything stupid._ He wasn't going to have Chrys get shot for him. Panic shot through his veins as he watched Ivan Checkov wave a pistol at the back of his twin's head; he still wasn't sure what was happening. Hadn't everything been fine five minutes ago? How had such a peaceful morning morphed into such a chaotic scene? He and his brother's eyes locked. _What do we do now?_

Chrys raised her hands in front of her, gesturing her surrender. What else could she do? This situation was officially fucked. Mega-fucked. She felt her shirt tighten around her neck and she stumbled as Checkov grabbed her by the back of her collar and drug her towards the door. The other Russian yanked Murph from his knees and prodded him in the same direction with his pistol. "Connor!" she kicked and screamed, trying to turn her head around and look back at him; she felt her chest tighten in panic, and an odd maternal instinct kicked into high gear. She had never been more scared for all their lives. She didn't care if she made it out of this; she had to make sure her boys didn't get hurt. "It was just a fucking bar fight, you guys are fucking pussies!" she heard Murphy scream behind her. Checkov had already dragged her halfway down the stairs. "Get your fucking hands off her, she's got nothin' to do with this!" Murphy yelled at the back of Ivan's head. _If I get out of this alive I swear to God I'm going to kill this fucking bastard._ Checkov stopped and turned to grin at him. "You want me to let her go?" he asked, and relinquished his vice like hold on her shirt. "Then I will let her go." With one movement, he shoved her down the last flight of stairs with his open palm. "No! You fucking prick!" Murphy yelled, rushing toward Ivan. The other Russian jammed the butt of his gun into the back of Murphy's head, and he fell dazed to the floor.

Chrys felt herself stumble before going airborne, and cried out; then she felt her whole body seize up with pain as she slammed full-force into the concrete below. It hurt to breathe. She could only hazard a guess as to how many ribs were bruised or even broken in her exchange with the floor of their apartment building. Her mind began to race, thoughts coming to her in fragments.

The next thing she saw was the sun; they were outside now, in the alley. She squinted her eyes shut; felt pain when her knees scraped against the asphalt. Murphy turned his head toward her and took her hand. _It's over._ She thought. _This is it. They're going to fucking kill us, right now._ "I love you." She whispered, her eyes locking with Murphy's. She wouldn't give her assailants the privilege of looking her in the eye as they murdered her. Murphy couldn't quit thinking how sorry he was. Sorry for not acting in time, for not protecting his brother, for not being able to save _her._ In what were sure to be his last moments on earth, Connor and Chrysanthemum were all that mattered to him. As long as they all died together, all wouldn't be for naught. "I hope your conscience is clear, Irishman." Ivan spat, chortling in almost maniacal glee. He had told those useless Irish fucks them they wouldn't get away with this. Now he was making them pay. _My conscience is clear. _Murphy grasped Chrys' hand tighter.

And then he looked up. Chrys inhaled sharply, noticing it only seconds after he did. Realizing what was happening and taking action, Murphy launched himself at Chrys before the Russians could react, knocking them both out of the way just in time for the heavy white ceramic to crash onto Checkov's head and break apart into hundreds of pieces; he died upon impact, before even hitting the ground. The gun in his hand went off, missing the frightened duo below him by inches and burying itself in the brick wall behind them. Chrys' chest swelled up with pure fear for the life of one of the men she loved when she saw that not only had the whole toilet come crashing down from the roof of the building; but Connor was currently on his way down as well. She removed her arms from their protective halo around her and Murphy's heads and shot up to run towards where Connor was about to fall. She was too late, but luckily his would-be fatal landing was broken by the other Russian in his stupid fucking suit; who had been too dumbfounded by the falling Irishman to get out of the way or notice Chrys running toward him. His gun went off on impact as well, barely missing her; and she screamed her lover's name as both he and the Russian crashed to the ground.

Chrys rushed to his aid. "Conn?" She slapped his cheeks gently, attempting to rouse him. "Connor, baby, please wake up!" Her voice rose to a yell. He had to be okay. After all that had happened he couldn't die. She couldn't live without him; and neither could Murphy. Had he just traded his own life to save theirs'? _Please…_Warm tears stung in the corners of her eyes, and she heard a sickening thwacking sound behind her. She didn't turn to see what Murphy was doing. She didn't need to know. It wasn't important. Getting Connor out alive was the only thing on both of their minds. She pressed her head to his bloodied chest for a heartbeat or pulse, anything. Something to verify he was alive.

"'Mum!" A voice from behind Chrys snapped her out of her panicked thoughts. Murphy had a green shopping bag in his hand, and gave it to her, motioning for her to get out of the way so he could pick Connor up. She took it, not bothering to look at what was inside. Murphy let out a loud grunt as he strained to lift his unconscious twin up and over his shoulder. "Come on, we have to get out of here, now!" She nodded and followed him out of the alley. They needed to get Connor to a hospital, pronto. Hell, they all needed medical attention. The stares of passers-by didn't faze them in the slightest as they rushed down the streets of South Boston toward SB Community Health Care Center. Chrys tried to imagine how this all looked. A broken and bloody trio rushing down the way, one unconscious and being carried by another, with a short ginger tagging behind carrying a random green shopping bag; she would have laughed, but the gravity of the situation prevented any feeling but panic from registering in her brain.

Chrys sat impatiently in the waiting room, and tapped her chewed-down nails on the arm rest of the gaudy mauve-pinstripe upholstered chair she was sitting in. She hadn't needed immediate medical attention, all she had were some bruised ribs and a sprained ankle; which was now throbbing under all of the Ace-bandage they had put on it. She glared through her lashes at Dora the Explorer and that stupid fucking purple monkey, who were on the waiting room TV, without really seeing either of them. There were only two people who really registered in her mind right now, and she wasn't sure whether or not one of them was even okay. Last time she'd asked, the orderly, who was already annoyed with her for inquiring so often, had told her nothing had changed. Connor still hadn't woken up, Murphy refused to leave his bedside. She was trying not to think about what happened; if she did she would over analyze everything until it drover her crazy, but she had never been good at clearing out her mind to avoid worrying, and today was no exception. As much as she tried to focus on the Spanish-speaking infant and her monkey with shoes, her mind kept wondering back to the events that had led up to this moment. It was all still so unreal; like none of it had even happened, or like she had just watched it on TV. None of them had been threatened, Connor hadn't really jumped off of a roof, Murphy couldn't have possible murdered someone. Connor was really okay, there was no chance that he wouldn't wake up. She sighed. But it was real. It had all really happened. _Can we just rewind to before the bar fight?_ She thought, _Back to when nothing was wrong, and the stupid fucking Russian mob wasn't even a blip on our godamned radar?_ She hated them in that moment, for ruining all of her hard earned happiness with her boys. After her life full of shit, didn't she deserve even a tiny little fucking slice of peace?

_Guess not._ It made her mad that even after everything she'd been through, she couldn't just live out a cute happy little peaceful life with Connor and Murphy. Even if Connor was okay, even if the three of them made full recoveries, she knew, nothing would be the same from this point on. She didn't know how, but she knew. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that this wasn't the last they'd hear from the mob. This was going to come back and haunt the three of them forever. _It was just a fucking bar fight._ She thought. A bar fight that had changed everything.


	15. Waiting

Murphy breathed a sigh of relief when his brother came to. Connor didn't know where he was, and he hadn't remembered anything that had happened at first; but once Murphy filled him in, it all started to come back. God, he'd been terrified. When Checkov had told him that he and his friend were going to kill Murphy and Chrys, there weren't words in _any_ language he knew that could even begin to explain how scared he'd felt. He had watched, helpless, as the woman he loved, and the man who was his other half, were dragged from their home at fucking gunpoint. He had struggled and strained to free himself for what seemed like hours but had really only been seconds; he didn't even have to consider the consequences of jumping off of the roof before he did so. There was no need; if it was the only way to save them, then that's what he would do.

He was lucky he hadn't broken both of his fucking legs, or to even be breathing. The doctor who treated him wanted to keep him through the night for observation; he had hit his head pretty hard on the pavement despite his miracle-like soft landing, but he politely declined. "Your talent's better used on someone who really needs it." He'd said, thanking the doctor again before Murphy helped him hobble out of the room he'd been resting in. His legs may not have been broken, but he would be walking with a limp for a day or two, at least. Since it was a community clinic, Murphy and Connor weren't obligated to tell any of the staff what had happened; which they took full advantage of. "Is 'Mum alrigh'?" Connor said into his brother's ear, the moment the two of them were out of hearing range. Murphy nodded in the direction of the open waiting area. "Why don' yeh see fer yerself?"

Chrys felt a tap on her shoulder, and spun around in her seat, assuming it was an orderly, or maybe even Murphy with news; what she didn't expect was to see Connor standing there, beaming at her. "Oh my God!" she screamed, throwing her arms around him, the weight of her entire body slamming into his. "Ow!" He cried out, but she didn't care if she'd hurt him or not. He'd be fine. She needed to be touching him right now, to convince herself he was really there, really alive, really okay. "I can't believe you made it out of that in one piece!" She yelled at him, tears of joy stinging at the corners of her eyes. Then she smacked him upside the head. "What the fuck?" He exclaimed, and looked at her like she'd just sprouted a horn, or a third eyeball. "Don't you EVER do anythin' that stupid ever AGAIN!" She shook her pointer finger threateningly in front of his nose, before giving up being mad at him altogether and throwing her arms around him again. She was just glad he was okay. Fuck all those other stupid feelings, gratitude was all she needed right now. _Thank you God, for taking care of us. _Murphy smiled, shaking his head and running his hand through his dark hair. _That's our girl._

Doc burst into the waiting area and crossed himself with the holy water at the entrance, before asking everyone if they were alright. He had been genuinely worried about the trio when he heard what had supposedly happened from Agent Smecker. "I was s-s-so worried that those dirty bastards might have hurt yeh, Chryssy." She gave him a hug around the neck and said "I'm fine Doc, they didn't manage any serious damage on me." He began digging around in his pocket for something. "An FBI agent came by the bar, and he left me his c-c-c-" he sputtered "he left me his c-c-c…aw fuck. He gave me this. FUCK! ASS!" He spat as he handed Connor the card he had been searching for, startling the small boy that Connor and Murphy had been playing slaps with, in addition to a group of injured nuns; one of which crossed herself upon hearing the old man curse. Chrys rolled her eyes at them._ As if he can help it,_ she thought. _Poor man has turrets._ He asked the boys what they were going to do. "We'll just have to turn ourselves in, tell 'em it was self-defense" Connor said, while Murphy nodded in agreement and took the card from his brother, looking it over. _Woah, woah, woah. Pump the breaks. _"Wait, what?" Chrys exclaimed. "You cannot turn yerselves in." Doc interrupted her outburst. "T-t-that's what he said."

"How the hell does he know that? We haven' spoken to anyone yet." Murphy said, turning it over in his mind. Could this Agent Smecker guy be that good? "I don't know, he d-d-din't say." Chrys looked from Connor, to Murphy, then back again. Had they not heard her? Was it not even registering that they could be charged with murder and go to fucking prison for this? Manslaughter was manslaughter, whether the person who got killed was a scumbag or not, and that's how the law was going to look at it. "Hello!" She waved her arms around, agitated. "Are you two retarded?" She exclaimed. "What else can we do, Chrys? We killed them." Murphy stated. "Aye." Connor said, in agreement. "We broke the law, Chrys, and the police are already looking for us. Whatever punishment we face will be less severe if we fess up and tell them the truth." She thought about it, knowing they were right but not wanting to acknowledge the likelihood of them being put in jail for defending each other; for defending her. _I'll be damned if the Russian mob is going to fuck us over like this._ "Well I'm going with you, then." She stated, matter-of-factly. There was no way she was letting them go alone. They both shook their heads, in unison. "No way." Murphy said. Connor concurred with a vehement "Absolutely fucking not. You're not coming." She stomped her foot, like a little kid. Before she could argue, Doc interjected. "They're right, lass. The less you're involved in all this, the b-b-better. The agent only asked about the boys. As f-f-far as they know, you weren't even there."

"Good." Murphy said. Connor took Chrys' hand and added "Look, 'Mum, you didn't do anythin'. Me n' Murph killed those thugs, and we're goin'te accept the consequences." They were right, as always, she just didn't feel like letting them know, because she hated it. "Fine." She said, acidly, and crossed her arms over her chest. They handed Doc the green shopping bag and asked him to keep the contents, and Chrys, safe until things were cleared up with the BPD. Before they separated, Chrys embraced her boys for a long time. She wasn't mad at them, just upset. Everything would be fine. _Everything had better be fine. _Surely the FBI would know that the deceased were criminals, and understand that the MacManus' twins had simply been protecting each other from harm. "You two had better come back to me soon." She said, placing goodbye kisses on each of their lips. "I'm not doing without you again, and if you go to prison, I swear I'm going to do something stupid, and have 'em throw me in there wit' yeh's." She hadn't been serious when she said that, and they knew it. She'd intended that comment as more of a threat to come back, than anything; she knew it wasn't realistic to think that her ending up in prison with them was a possibility. Coed prisons were few and far between, anyways. Connor rubbed her back, trying to comfort her, and Murphy ran his fingers through her hair. They didn't want to leave their girl, but they knew what had to be done; and they trusted Doc would take good care of her. "Prometta." They said, in Italian, giving covenant to return to her as soon as they could.

Rocco burst in to McGinty's later that day, not long after Doc and Chrysanthemum had arrived from the care center. "What the fuck happened?" was his opening line. Chrys raised her eyebrow at him, then took a loooooong swig of her Sangria. She had needed a drink after today. "Nice the see you too, Roc." She patted the bar stool next to hers, motioning for him to sit down. He obliged and asked Doc to grab him a beer before turning back to Chrys. "I saw on the news that Connor and Murphy killed those Russians from the fight last night" She nodded. "It's not all cut and dry though, Roc. 'Dose arseholes came after us in our own home; threatened to kill Murph and I." She rubbed her aching temples. Her head felt as if there was a huge rubber band inside of it, cutting off all of the circulation to her brain. "They would've fucking done it, too, if Connor hadn't gotten there in time." Rocco chugged the whole beer in one swig, then ran a hand through his dark and unruly locks. "That's some heavy shit, man." He looked at her, seemingly just taking notice of all her injuries. "You okay, Chryssy?" she nodded, and patted his leg. "I'm fine, David. Don'e worry abou' me. We need to worry about 'dem boys. They went and turned 'emselves in, like the pair of idiots they are." He slammed his open palm on the bar, startling Doc and almost causing him to drop the glass he'd been filling. "They did what? What the fuck, why?" She shrugged. "Beats the hell outta me. Tryin' to do the righ' thing, I guess." Secretly she was proud of them for being so honest. It was a breath of fresh air, since every other man she'd ever known, aside from Rocco and Doc, or course, were complete and utter douche-bags.

The TV in the bar had been turned to the news channel ever since Chrys and Doc got back, and another blurb about their story had just popped up. The anchorman was standing right outside of the Boston Police Department with a microphone. "The chief of the BPD is scheduled to release a statement concerning the two brothers that were implicated in the murder of the Russian mafia members; who turned themselves in earlier this afternoon, within the hour…" Chrys got an idea, and turned to Rocco. "Hey Roc, why don't you stop by the apartment and pick up some clothes for them? All they had on when they went to the police department was their boxers and bathrobes."

"Won't the police be at you guys' place? Will they even let me in?" She nodded, took a sip of her drink. "Just tell 'em the truth, they can't exactly stop you from getting clothes. B'sides, I'm sure the boys will appreciate it." He got up and checked his coat pocket for his car keys, then asked "Don't you want to come with me? See if they're okay?" She shook her head. "They don't want me to be involved. I'll see 'em when they get out. From the way the news is making it sound, they're probably not gettin' charged." She wasn't mad at them for not letting her go anymore; she knew they just didn't want her to get in any trouble. He nodded and hugged her goodbye, and Doc flagged him down before he left. "Here, t-t-take dis wit'yeh." He reached under the bar and retrieved the green shopping bag the boys had entrusted him with, handing it to Rocco. Chrysanthemum had peeked in it earlier, and discovered that it had the Russians guns and other random belongings in it. She didn't know why Murphy had decided to take all of it, other than the bit of money that was in there, but knew he must've had a good reason. "Alright Chryssy. I'll see you in a bit." Rocco said, taking the bag from the old man and heading toward the door. She called to him on his way out. "Hey Roc!" He turned around, wondering what she wanted. "Don' forget their rosaries. Grab mine for me, too, and I'll get if from yeh later."

Chrys saw the broadcast later that day, stating that Connor and Murphy weren't being charged with the murders, and breathed a sigh of relief. She would get to see her boys again soon. Not tonight, however, since the two of them had opted to stay at the station that night due to all the hype over the gangsters' murders. They hadn't said it outright on the news; all the chief had said was that they would be released at an undisclosed time and location, but she was able to ascertain that they wouldn't be leaving before the night was out. She knew that when they decided to resurface, she would be the first one they came to.

Since the investigation was over, she figured it would be all clear for her to go home. "Are yeh sure you don'e want to stay here tonight lass? I've got an extr-r-r-ra room in the b-b-back." She shook her head, and gave him a goodbye hug before getting up to leave. "Thanks ole' man, but I'll go on back to our place. No place like home, an' all that. If the boys come by here lookin' fer me first, then tell 'em that's where I went."

"Aye, girlie. I'll tell 'em. You be c-c-careful out 'dere, okay?" He told her with a worried expression on his brow. She loved that old man, for worrying about her so. It was nice to have a grand-father figure in her life; she'd never met any of her real ones.

It was a short walk back to their flat, as always; but she paused when she passed by the alley, which was still wrapped up with crime-scene tape. The events from earlier that day ran through her head in a flash. _"I hope your conscience is clear, Irishman!" _Had it really been such a short time ago that all of it happened? She shuddered. As much as she hated to think it, she was glad those assholes were dead. They deserved to be in hell. Another shiver passed through her bones as she walked up the steps she'd been shoved down not long ago; remembering and almost re-experiencing the pain of her body making contact with the concrete floor. She had been so terrified. She reached in her pocket for her key, surprised it was even still there, and unlocked the door to their apartment. She reached over and felt the empty space by the door where all of their rosaries would have been hanging. _Good. Rocco remembered._

That was the last thing that ran through her mind before she was knocked unconscious by the four Russians that had been waiting there for her. She hadn't even had a chance to switch the light on; she'd had no idea anyone was even there. "How do we know this is even right girl?" A tall Russian gangster with blonde hair and bad diction asked his superior. "Ivan said last night that the two Irish guys who attacked them had a girl with them. A ginger. Says she came at him with baseball-bat." The other three Russians laughed. "Ivan got beat up by this little girl? She's tiny!" one said. "Shut up." The one who was in charge snapped. "We need to get her to the Copley Plaza, Petrova wants to send these assholes a message." They all grunted in agreement. "Stupid fucking Paddy's think they can get away with fucking with us. We'll show them who's really in charge of this city."

_For anyone who didn't know, Paddy is a derogatory term for an Irish person. Just didn't want anyone to get confused._


	16. Scarlet Witch

"Yeh nervous?" Connor asked his brother, tapping his foot impatiently against the floor in the elevator of the Copley plaza, where they had come to kill whatever evil men happened to be waiting there for them. Connor wasn't exactly sure why he had decided to call the number back when it had flashed on the screen of the Russian's pager; However Murphy hadn't been surprised when he'd told his bother what he'd done. They were still mystified by the reasoning behind why they had traded the guns and money Murphy had lifted from Ivan and the other thug for their own Berettas and silencers. Oh, and Conner's rope, of course. It was all like some sort of crazy whim; but now that they were mere seconds away from carrying it out, it had started to seem more real. "Destroy all that which is evil, so that which is good may flourish." Those were the words they had spoken to each other that morning, upon waking from their shared dream. They had often had similar dreams in the past; it was a twin thing, but never the exact same dream. They knew it had to mean something. And so here they were.

"A bit." Murphy answered his twin, nodding slightly. Connor nodded too. "Mehself as well." He wondered what Chrys would think when they told her what they had done. Would she scold them? _Probably._ She could be such a hard ass sometimes, but they both knew it was just because she loved them. They did the same to her all the time with the same reasoning. That's just what they all did; take care of each other. Because each other was all they had. After putting on their masks and unpacking their equipment, they crossed themselves; and Murphy helped his brother lift himself up through the ceiling panel of the elevator. "I told you there'd be a shaft." Connor said, heaving his rope up over his shoulder. "Just like on television." Murphy said, shining his flashlight through the vents.

Chrys was starting to get tired of all this fucking drama. She had been beaten, bruised, tripped, thrown, threatened, shoved down a flight of stairs, and had a gun waved in her face; now, she was bound, blindfolded, and gagged in a hotel room full of Russian Mafia Syndicate Bosses and Under-Bosses. _This is awesome._ She thought, sarcastically. She hadn't even bothered being scared when she roused and realized she had been kidnapped. These past couple of days had all but desensitized her to crises. They had tied her up and told her she was intended to be leverage against Connor and Murphy. _How cliché. _She'd told them so, but they'd just laughed at her. I mean, come on. Let's get back at some guys we're mad at by kidnapping some girl that's close to them. That has _so _never been done before.

"You guys are the _mafia."_ She'd said before they'd gagged her, putting an emphasis on the last word as if she were teaching a class of slow junior high students. "And you couldn't come up with a better idea to exact revenge on a couple of Irish meat-packing plant workers?" They'd tried to argue and defend themselves, but she ended up winning every time. These thugs weren't the brightest little crayons in the Russian color-box, metaphorically, at least. Physically they were very bright. One had blue pinstriped pants on. _Blue pinstripe._ She could deal with blue-pants guy, and even the one with the ridiculous periwinkle dress-jacket on with a hunter green tie that wouldn't have matched even in some sort of bizarro 80's music video alternate dimension; but she drew the line when she saw one of them had a weird gray checkered pattern suit on with suspenders; they looked like fucking pajamas. "Who dresses you guys? I mean, really?" She'd said, pointing at him. "And what's goin' on with your bleach job, dude? Your beard doesn' even match. Are yeh blind?" They had decided to gag her not long after this conversation took place; and they blindfolded her and shoved her behind the mini-bar in the room before their boss, Yuri Petrova, arrived. No outsiders were allowed to see his face. She was surprised they hadn't beaten her up for being a smartass, but wasn't complaining. She didn't need another shiner, and her busted lip had just healed over. Now that she couldn't see or understand what was going on, she became dully apprehensive. How would the boys know where to find her? How long? Would they even be able to?

She heard a very loud and authoritative voice booming a seemingly endless monologue behind her in Russian, which she didn't understand. The boys spoke it fluently, among other languages, and their mother had taught Chrys how to do so as well; but she had never quite caught on to Russian. She didn't like the way it sounded, anyways; like the person speaking was always angry. She didn't hear any other voices piping up, so she assumed the speaker to be Petrova. Then she heard a really loud crash, like something breaking; followed by a series of popping sounds. _Gunfire. _Without the use of her hands to break the fall, she instinctively dove down to avoid getting shot and landed on her face. They must have gotten into some kind of disagreement; why else would they be shooting each other? Her heart raced, and her lids moved back and forth nervously under her blindfold as bullets busted through the bar and whizzed past her. _What's going to happen to me?_ She decided when the shooting stopped, she needed to find a way to get the blindfold off and get out of there.

There was another crash and the sound of gunfire ceased. Chrys tried to quiet her breathing so she could better hear what was going on. She heard panicked murmuring, still in Russian. It was the voice from earlier, but no longer sounded as intimidating; now it sounded frightened. Terrified, even. Then there were two voices she couldn't quite place; were they saying a prayer? The prayer sounded so familiar to her, but she was unable to put her finger on why. Two silenced gunshots, then nothing. She heard feet shuffling and what sounded like clothes being moved, but no more words. _What are they doing?_ As silently as possible, she used her shoulder her good foot as support and got back onto her knees; then felt around for a solid surface with both feet. _Bingo._ She found the back of the mini-bar, and rubbed her face up against it to try and get the blind fold off; but somehow managed to move it not only over her eyes, but partially onto her ears as well. She could see about a fraction of an inch over the fabric now, which was a plus; but the voices behind her were muffled, so she still had no idea what was taking place. She didn't dare lift her head above the bar for fear of making her presence known. She began to hear muted fragments of a conversation. "Name one thing…stupid fuckin'…"

"And then…sofa…"

"-ten fuckin' minutes!"

"…good!"

"Fuck me!"

She heard a thwack, and then the hotel room buzzer sounded. _Shit! What now?_ She began furiously trying to catch her blindfold on things so that she could see and hear again; and finally managed to get it off and around her neck. There was yelling now, but she didn't pay attention to the words. She needed to get out of here; before she ended up shot. Still gagged and hands bound behind her, she crouched down and walked to the edge of the bar, peaking around it. There was blood everywhere. Every thug who had kidnapped her was dead, and there were several others added to the body count. _Good riddance._ In the middle of it all were two guys in masks with what looked like a bellboy pinned to the ground. "Where's your gun?" One yelled. He grabbed it from the man on the floor and got up, stomping around. "It's a fuckin' six shooter!" he spat, hitting his partner's shoulder with it. "There's nine bodies, genius!" The second man said. She decided to make a break for the door while they were distracted. "What were you gonna do, laugh the last three to death? Funny man!" Why was that nickname so familiar…_Doesn't matter._ She thought, going around the other side of the bar and sneaking behind them towards the now open door of the hotel room. Wait, wait, wait. There was something wrong with their voices. They were accented…She heard laughing from behind her and turned around.

_Oh my God._ There was no way this was possible. Rocco had just gotten done saying the word 'Fuck' close to 15 times. "Well that certainly illustrates the diversity of the word." Connor said to Murphy, who laughed. She walked out from behind the door jamb to reveal herself. "Wham der furm arff yerh doinfgh hereph?" She said through her gag. The three men squinted in her direction. "Chrys?" They shouted in unison. She nodded, exasperated. Things just became _so_ confusing. Murphy came over to her and began to untie her hands, and Connor cut off what was left of her blindfold and gag with a gigantic bowie knife. "What are you doing here Chryssy?" Rocco asked, just as confused as she was.

"We've got teh stop runnin' into eachother like this, babe." Muphy quipped, but Chrys wasn't having it. She knew something was up. "Someone tell me what the _fuck_ it going on. Now."

They had all headed back toward Rocco's apartment, and on the way Chrysanthemum explained everything that happened to her while they were at the BPD. "They were waitin' for yeh?" Murphy asked, taking a drag of his cigarette and exhaling a large cloud of smoke. "Yeah." She said. "Said they were goin'te use me as leverage or somethin'." They were all standing outside of his apartment complex now, enjoying what was left of the setting sun's warmth. Chrys' head had started to hurt. "I'm just glad you two of you didn' get charged with anythin'." She said, taking Connor into her arms and burying her face into his pea coat; which she had no idea why he and Murphy were even wearing, since it was the middle of March. Then her hand brushed up against his gun holster, and realization hit her. "What were the two of yeh doin' there, Conn?" She looked at his twin. "Murph, don't lie to me." They looked at each other, then back at Chrys. Murphy took her hand and led her inside with Connor and Rocco trailing behind.

Chrysanthemum asked Rocco if she could use his shower. "Yeah, sure. I don't mind. The water probably wont stay hot for long though." he said, handing her a clean towel from his dryer. "That's fine." She said, taking the towel from him. "I don' plan on bein' that long."

Her whole mind went blank when the torrid water hit her skin, and she ran her hands through her long hair. It felt amazing. The boys had always thought she was a weirdo for taking super hot showers; they liked their water hot, but not so hot that your skin is red for 20 minutes after you're done. She adored it. There was no better feeling than losing yourself in the heat; just letting it consume and cauterize anything that could possibly be wrong. The door clicked open, and she heard someone tread lightly into the bathroom. "Murphy?" She asked, her voice slightly distorted by the water pouring down her face. He laughed; it sounded like some kind of animal purring. "How'd yeh know it was me?" he asked, and she peaked around the dingy striped curtain. "I can tell by the way you came in the room all quiet. If it had been Connor he would've burst right in." She wrung her hair out with her hands so it wouldn't drip everywhere. He smiled and scratched his ear. He always did the most random and minute things when he was nervous, and you would only be able to spot them if you knew how to watch; and she had become the master at watching he and his brother. "Whad'yeh want then?" She asked, wondering why he'd come in. Talking to him was wasting all of her precious hot uisce. "I dunno. I was worried about yeh, I guess." His sweet blue eyes wandered up to hers. "Whad'yeh mean?" she asked. "I'm fine." He shrugged. "I mean, none of those thugs hurt yeh, or touched yeh or anythin' like tha'?" He had brought his thumbnail to his mouth, and was chewing on it apprehensively. It was so cute…_God, I want him._

She reached across the bathroom and grabbed him by the collar of his pea coat, and her lips smashed into his. His moan came out as a kind of growl, and he began to remove his clothes with desperate urgency; he'd barely discarded his boots before she had pulled him in the shower, hungrily. He pushed her against the tile on the wall and his hands went to work setting her skin on fire. She buried her hand in his hair and pulled it as he teased her nipple with his mouth; then, she took him in her hands and slipped him into her. She tried rather unsuccessfully to suppress a raucous moan; she was in no mood to wait today. He took both of her legs and supported all of her body weight with his own, taking her vigorously. Her body slammed against the wall repeatedly with each thrust on his end. She loved every noise that came out of him; they were desperate and hoarse; it made her want to scream. And she did, on accident. Rocco's walls were thin, and surely he and Conn would know what the two of them were up to. None of that mattered to either of them; in that moment their lust for each other overrode all else. Euphoria was evident upon Murphy's features when he came; but she wasn't done yet. "Tell that brudder of yers to get his arse in here, now." She growled in his ear; her usually faint Irish brogue thickening with her excitement. He dressed quickly, and not a minute later Connor came busting into the bathroom; nearly tearing the door from its hinges.

Wasting little time; his clothes were off with surprising speed. She grabbed him by the arm and almost threw him into the wall, causing him to grunt in surprise. Her aggression had caught him off-guard, and she crushed his lips with her own. He bit her tongue, and she felt him grin; fully intending to wipe it off his cocky face. She knelt down and flashed him a devilish brown-eyed grin, before taking all of him into her mouth and throat. He moaned and buried his hands in her soft, damp waves. She hated to brag, but her oral skills left basically nothing to be desired. Aw hell. She loved to brag. She would have pleased him longer, but she didn't want all of the pressure Murphy had spent so much time building for her to fade. He sensed what she wanted and spun her around, the tile was shockingly cold in comparison to her own temperature; and she exhaled loudly when he entered her from behind; supporting himself with one hand on her hip and the other against the wall. He took her with his usual hungry vigor, and she enjoyed every minute of him burning inside of her. He began muttering in Gaelic; the sound of it rolling off of his tongue was making her crawl beneath her skin. "Ba mhaith liom a fucking cuimilt tú scartha!" The words came out louder now; half spoken half moaned to the beat of his thrusting hips. She couldn't take it anymore. Just as her orgasm shook her, the hot water ran out; and both of their bodies were shocked with the change in temperature. She turned and pressed herself against him; and they made out for a while, before she finally kicked him out. "What's the rush, love? I only just got here." He asked, half joking. "I came in here to actually get clean, and you two have managed to make me dirtier than I was when I started." He laughed while he put his clothes on. "What else are we good fer?" He asked, exiting the bathroom; leaving her alone at long last. _Good point._

After having finally washed her hair and body, she put on some clean clothes she kept at Roc's just in case. They were always over there, anyways. The boys were at the table, talking to Rocco over cans of beer and cleaning their new toys. She pressed herself against the wall, listening for a minute.

"Anybody you think is evil..?" Rocco asked slowly. "Yeh." Connor answered. "Don't you think that's a little weird; a little phsyco?" He finished, giving them a dubious look. "D'ya know what I think is phsyco, Roc?" Connor asked, lighting a cigarette and exhaling a stream of smoke into the room. She peered at him from beneath her lashes. He looked beautiful in his conviction, and that's how she knew he was serious about what he had to say. He always looked that much more gorgeous when he wasn't trying to. "Is decent men with loving families; they go home every day after work and the turn on the news. D'yeh know what the see? They see rapists and murderers. They're all getting' out of prison." Her eyes cut to Murphy, as he finished his brother's train of thought. "Mafiosos." He pulled the trigger of his empty gun, making it click. "Gettin' caught with twenty kilos, getting' out on bail. Same fuckin' day." He clicked his pointer snapped his thumb and index finger together for dramatic effect. Connor went on to say that people like that deserved to die, and that making that happen was what he and Murphy intended to do.

That scared her. She didn't want to think of her boys as murderers; but at the same time she knew they were right. _Why do they always have to be right? _There were evil men in the world; who made names of themselves by making other people's lives miserable. Evil men like Lile Cagney, and his father. Wouldn't everything be better if they all just disappeared, like she had made Lile disappear, with their father's revolver? She was almost surprised at how little of a problem she had with this whole scenario. She actually thought it was kind of a good idea. Her mind tried switched to the pessimist channel, and tell her it was a shiteous and dangerous idea. She should tell them so. _Protect them, they're idiots! They'll get themselves killed! _She mentally pulled the plug on that area of her brain. No need to be a Debbie Downer. "We're kind of like seven eleven." She heard Murphy's voice coo in his unintentionally sexy drole.

She knew it was unintentional because she'd asked him about it one time. "Do you mean to sound so fucking hot when you talk?" She'd asked, her head in his lap as they lay on Rocco's still-injured couch one day that past summer. He'd given her a look like she was mental. "What are you on?" He'd said, pressing his hand against her cheek, pretending to see if she had a fever.

"We're not always doin' business, but we're always open." She stepped forward at this point in the conversation. "I don't care what the three of you say; you're letting me help you." They were surprised when she entered, none of them had the slightest idea she'd been standing there. For once in their lives, they knew it would be pointless to argue with her. They'd been trying to keep her out of trouble all her life, and thus far all it had brought her was more trouble. The only time she wasn't in need of rescue was when she was in on their shenanigans with them; so they decided to let her. "Alrigh'." Connor said, setting his beer can down. "But only if yeh let us pick you out a sexy crime fightin' outfit." She crossed her arms and gave him 'the look'. The look she had reserved only for him when he was being especially childish. She had one for Murphy too, but she didn't need to use it as often as she did Connor's. "Aye!" Murphy piped up. "We can dress her up like Laura Croft; in a cute little tank top n' shit."

"Nah, nah, nah. S'all wrang for her. We gotta put her in chun-li's getup. Like, wit' spiked bracelets and white Doc Martens." He high-fived his brother and she smacked them both upside the head. "Ow!" They said, simultaneously. "I think she'd make a good Scarlet Witch, personally." Rocco piped up from across the room. Both of the boys turned slowly and gave him 'their look'. The one they had just for him, when he was about to get his ass beat. "She's got red hair and everything!" He said pointing to her. Their eyebrows rose. "What?" Rocco asked. "I don't get a say?"

Their answer was unanimous. "Hell no!" She walked over to Roc and put her arm around him, then gave him a kiss on the cheek; a little closer to his lips than she usually did. She wanted to get a rise out of the twins. He blushed several shades darker than her hair, and lowered his eyes to the floor. His ass was about to be grass, and he knew it. "I think I'll take David's suggestion." She said, tempting them. "Hell, I'll even let him buy my outfit." She put her hand on her hip and popped her butt out, for dramatic effect.

Connor and Murphy shot out of their chairs, jumping on Roc. They all landed on the floor in a huge dog pile; aside from Chrysanthemum, who had stepped out of the way just in time. "I'm gonna murder yeh!" Murphy said, giving Rocco a violent noogie and tangling his hair. "Yer gonna regret thinkin' about her in a skimpy outfit!" Connor yelled, smacking him in the ribs. "Ow guys! I was just kidding! I didn't think about nothin', I swear!"

"I'm goin'te make all of you regret daydreaming about me in ridiculous hooker costumes!" She yelled half-jokingly, and launched herself onto them, joining in on the already cartoon-like melee of limbs. They fought and wrestled and tickled her for nearly ten whole minutes, but in the end she came out of it as the victor. She stuck her tongue out at all of them and gave them all a good pinch on the arm. "Now, promise me there will be no more daydreaming about me in costumes." She said, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrow at them, as if she was the three rowdy boys' mom, giving them a good scolding. Connor and Murphy looked at each other, then shook their heads. "Nah. I can'eh promise nothin'." Murphy said. "Not a chance." Connor added. "Picturing you in sexy outfits is what gets us through the day." Murphy nodded. "Aye. But maybe if you actually started wearing sexy outfits 'round the house, we wouldn' have the picture you in them, now would we?" She sighed, and gave up. Rocco kept his mouth shut, knowing better now, than to taunt her. Her boys would never change, but she didn't want them too. The fact that they were all complete pervs only made her life that much more fun. She had become accustomed to being the one girl in the all-boys tree house; it was where she belonged. And that suited her just right.


	17. Skippy's Demise

Chrysanthemum spent the better part of the next morning scrubbing what was left of Skippy off of the wall and floor of David's apartment. All three boys had passed out sporadically, piss fucking drunk; although the whole ordeal had sobered them a bit. She was surprised that she hadn't been more upset about Rocco accidentally blowing up the cat; she loved cats. She was a big-time animal person…but it had just been so funny. She had to stop her work for a moment to think it over and laugh, and luckily caught her bloody yellow-gloved hand before she reflexively covered her mouth with it; like she usually did when trying to suppress laughter. It hadn't been so funny then.

At some point last night, after several beers and a whole bottle of Wiser's Deluxe split between them, Rocco and the twins slipped into a discussion about the Copley Plaza hit they had done. Papa Joe had sent him in under the pretense that there were only going to be two guys there, hence the six-shooter; but she and the boys smelled a fox in the hen house. They knew something was up, and were planning on broaching the subject with Roc later. She had been in the middle of cleaning up his apartment; it was filthy. Now she was no Martha Stewart; and was usually pretty lax when it came to cleaning, but this place was getting out of hand; that and all the smoke from the den was making her nauseous. She had overheard them all talking from the kitchen, while she was putting up some dishes; not that the boys ever used dishes, mind you. They usually just ate with their hands, out of pizza boxes, or with the plastic silver wear that came with takeout. "I'm done. Permanent fuckin' package boy." She heard Rocco bellow, self-loathingly.

Her heart fell in her chest; ever since she became close with Rocco, she'd felt for him on that subject. He'd spent his whole life since his freshman year in High School cow-towing to the Italians. He hadn't had many other options; nowhere else would give him a chance at a job; just assumed he was some punk kid. He'd never done Papa Joe wrong, but he had spent Rocco's whole career in the mafia making his life miserable; indirectly, of course. No one in the mob took him seriously; and it wasn't fair.

The boys were in the middle of telling Roc that he should take credit for what they had done. "If you think about it, it's all you can do, really. I mean you can't go in there and tell 'im it was us." She heard Murphy say. "Climb that corporate ladder, boy." Connor added. "Don Rocco…" He laughed at the comment. Chrys had to admit that it had a funny ring to it. She shook her head and went back to what she was doing. _Boys will be boys._ "Fuck it. I'm doin' it. It's done!" She heard Rocco shout before…

BLAM! The loud noise was followed by a vomit-inducing splatter; much like the sound of driving through a sheet of rain that only lasts a few seconds. Chrys almost hit the deck as a reflex to the noise she heard in the other room; but overcame the urge and instead ran back into the den to see what the fuck was going on. "Shit! Shit!" The boys were tumbling around and falling all over themselves to get away from the table. "Oh my God!" David knocked over a plant. "I'm hit! I'm hit!" He cried, patting himself down for bullet wounds. "What de fuck's goin'- OH MY GOD!" Chrys exclaimed, her hands slapping over her gaping mouth when she surveyed the damage. There was a huge splatter of blood and bits against the wall beside the table in Roc's den, some had even managed it's way onto the kitchen cabinets; and not to mention a sizable crack in the wall. "I can't believe that just fuckin' happened!" Murph said, pointing at where poor Skippy would have been laying on the table, if Rocco hadn't just exploded her. "Is it dead?" Rocco asked, in a semi-drunken stupor. Chrys looked at him. "Are yeh fuckin' retarded? Of course it's fuckin' dead!" Connor remained speechless through the whole ordeal; a first, for him, and just stood there with his mouth open, pointing at the table. Chrys' heart was still racing from the leftover adrenaline. "What. The fuck. Just happened." She asked, hands on her hips.

Connor turned to her, mouth still open, and managed to stammer "I think Rocco's gun went off on accident." Murphy nodded, breathing heavily. "Aye. One minute the cat was there, then Roc slammed his hands on the table and blam! It was fuckin' gone!" Rocco just kept staring at the crack in the wall, blinking. She shooed them all out of the den and told them to sleep their hangovers off, that she would take care of it. "God knows I take care of everythin' else. You boys are a fuckin' mess."

She threw the once yellow sponge back in the bucket of soapy red tinged water, then took the rubber gloves off and washed them, putting them back in the cabinet under Rocco's sink. After dumping the water out putting the rest of the cleaning supplies up, she attempted to rouse the boys. She needed to call her job, and so did they, to try and explain why they hadn't shown up the past few days. Their boss would know why, surely, after having seen them on the news.

She shook Rocco's shoulder; he had passed out on a bean-bag, but all he did was growl at her and roll over. "Rocco! Get up!" She punched him in the arm. "Ow, man!" He rubbed the spot where her fist had made contact. "What the fuck, Chryssy?" She kissed his arm where she'd hit him. "I'm sorry, Roc. But come on, we all need to get off our asses. It's nearly afternoon." He ran his hand through his dirty scruff and looked around. "Yeah. You're right." His eyes ran across where the carnage in the den had once been. "Hey, thanks for cleaning that up, I'm such a fuckin' idiot." She shook her head and offered him her hand, helping him up off of the ground. "Don' think nothin' of it, sweet'eart. I take care of me boys. That's what I do." He smiled, and it lit up his whole face. She loved him, as a friend, of course. And she knew the feeling was mutual. Rocco didn't have any blood brothers or sisters, but now that he had Chrys and Connor and Murphy, he was starting to feel less alone in the world; more like he had a family. People he could come home to everyday who cared about him and what he had to say. No one else in his life had ever taken the time to notice Rocco, or take anything he had to say seriously, and he was grateful that he had the three of them to ground him.

Chrys called into work and explained to Mrs. MacDowd all of what had been going on, and why she hadn't been showing up, or at least, she told her most of what had been going on. She couldn't exactly tell her boss she'd been kidnapped by the Russian mob and held hostage. _"Oh don't worry abou' a thing dear, you take as much time off as yeh need. We'll call you in if we need extra help, it really hasn' been too busy of late."_ The kind old woman's voice said. "Thanks for bein' such a peach, Ellen. Tell Helena I said Hello."

"_Oh! Speaking of Helena, I think she said she had a date tonigh'. D'yeh want the come in and work her shift for her?"_

"Absolutely!" Chrys' mood brightened. She loved her job, and jumped at the chance to keep busy._ "Alrigh' darlin'. I'll see yeh in a bit."_

She hung up the phone just as Connor and Rocco exited the apartment to go outside for a smoke. Murphy made his way toward her, and placed his hands on her hips. She kissed him softly, and laid her head on his chest, enjoying the smell of his clothes. She loved the way her boys smelled. Not like soap, or cologne, or anything. It was just _their_ scent. She couldn't get enough. "So what do yeh thing abou' this whole situation with Rocco and the Plaza?" He murmured into her hair. She sighed, defeated. "I think that the Italians were just tryin' to find an easy way to get rid of him, the fuckin' _bastardi_." He moved his hands from her hips so they encircled her. "Aye. Me n' Conn are thinkin' the same thing. I think tha's what Connor went out there to talk to him abou'." She lifted her head to meet his eyes. "I don' see our boy takin' that too well." She said. "We should go ou' there and back Connor up." She went to the coat-hanger and grabbed her hoodie and rosary, hanging it around her neck and tucking it under her black and grey striped v-neck. Murphy got his coat and followed her down the stairs and out to the alley where they found Rocco and Conner, already deep into their argument.

"No. No Rollin, Nothin' needs to be rolled! Fuck." Rocco said, bringing his cigarette to his mouth. Murphy finished putting his coat on and asked "Where the fuck are you goin'?" He looked back at his brother. "Did you tell 'im?" Chrys settled herself on the wall beside Connor. "Of course I fuckin' told him." He took a drag of his tar and gave Chrys a look that said their conversation hadn't gone well. She nodded, looked back at Murphy. "Then what the fuck?" He asked. Was Rocco stupid? Here they were trying to help him out and he was acting like he was in junior high. Why was this so hard for him to comprehend? "You guys don't know that shit for sure!" Rocco yelled, defending himself. Chrys stepped forward. "Look Roc, don' throw a fit; we're not ganging up on you or anythin' we're just worried. We love you." Rocco ran a hand through his hair and said "Look, I just don't think they would sell me out like that, is all. You guys don't have enough faith in me."

"Rocco. Listen to yerself. They've been fucking you over since you were 15! Do yeh really think they would choose now to elevate yer status?" She asked, becoming exasperated. He just wasn't listening. "Look, I don't care what you guys say-" Murphy cut him off, throwing his unlit cigarette at his friend. "You're such a fuckin' retard!" Rocco had enough, and reached out to shove Murphy. "Hey, Fuck you!" Chrys stepped forward, attempting to get in between them. "Hey guys, stop-" she tried to say, but was interrupted by Murphy shoving Rocco back against the wall, pinning him there. "Oh man, use your fuckin' brain for once! Is it so unbelievable that they don't fuckin' care about yeh?" They continued to shove each other, hands at their respective collars. Connor put his arm around Chrys, and she stepped back. They needed to fight this out; it might be the only way to get through to David.

"Oh yeah, you three fuckin' micks know what's goin' on, huh?" Rocco said, finally pushing Murphy out of the way and into Chrys. His words stung her, and her eyes narrowed. They had taken him into their family, and he was repaying them by lashing out for something none of them had any control over. She could hardly blame him for being hurt, she could blame him for his blind ignorance, however. "I'm the fuck out of here." He spat, stomping out of the alley.

"Fine! Fuck it!" Murphy had had enough, his anger took over and he took after David, furiously kicking a gate in the alley shut. "What kind of flowers you want at your funeral, ya dumb wop? It's the last time I'm gonna see ya!" Murphy said, pumping his fist in the air and stomping out of the alley, past Chrys and his brother. His outburst took her aback; Murphy never got angry and blew up like that, ever. Shit just got fucking serious. Chrys looked back to Rocco's back as he continued walking away. "I'll be back at nine, bury the cat!" He yelled back behind him, not that there was much left of the cat to bury. "Be careful, David." She shouted, then turned to go see if Murphy was okay. She heard Connor yell something back at Rocco in warning, but wasn't listening to the words. Tears were building up behind her lashes, and she blinked them back. No use crying, now. Rocco was gone. _He had better fucking come back._ She thought, walking back into the apartment, and her lip quivered.

Murphy saw the crack in her otherwise calm and silly demeanor, and rushed to her, taking her in his arms. "I'm just so worried about him, Murph." She sniffled and buried her tear streaked face in his shirt, darkening the black in blotches. "I know, love. I am too." He said, stroking her hair. Connor burst in the door behind them, saw her crying, and joined his brother's hold on her. She threw her arms around his neck, and he _shhhhsh_'d her, rubbing her back softly. "Come on, babe." He said, taking her chin in his hand and giving her a kiss. Murphy reached over and wiped the tears from her cheeks with his coat sleeve. "Aye. We'll walk yeh to the flower shop."

When they dropped her off at MacDowd's she kissed them both goodbye. "You two call me the second you get news from Roc, yeh hear?" She said. They both nodded. "Don' worry, 'Mum. Yeh'll know somethin' when we know." Connor told her. They left and she clocked in, giving greetings to her boss and co-workers, then tied a MacDowd's apron around her waist. She knew she wasn't going to be able to concentrate with David off doing God know's what. She was already glancing at the clock every three and a half seconds._ That asshole better come back alive._ She thought, chewing at her thumbnail._ Or I'll kill that Papa Joe bastard myself._


	18. On the Run

It was after three, and Chrys was getting more and more anxious as every minute ticked by her on that stupid daisy shaped clock. The shop was dead, no orders were being called in, and she had already finished all of the arrangements on the queue that day. She sat atop an empty 10-gallon plastic tub, and pulled the leaves off of a wilted yellow rose; one by one they fell onto the floor, creating a little golden halo around her feet. Ellen had long go given up inquiring about her apprehension; Chrys only ever answered her with a wave of her hand and mumbled "I'm fine. Don' worry about it." or some other way to avoid the question. She didn't want to talk about it. That lead to thinking about it, and thinking about it lead to worrying about it. Chrys felt as if her head were going to explode any minute.

Then she heard the bell that hung above the front door to the shop jingle violently. The once empty foyer was now filled with agitated voices. She got up from her perch and moved behind the counter, to see what all of the commotion was about. Murphy was in the middle of asking Ellen where Chrys was when he saw her, and grabbed her by the arm, and dragged her toward the door. "Where are we-" He cut her off, looking agitated. "We have to go, 'Mum. Now." His eyes were angry and his mouth pressed into a thin line, making his beauty mark sit oddly on his face.

She didn't ask questions, merely loosened his grip on her to untie her apron, before giving Ellen an apologetic glance and following him out the door. Ellen was nervous about letting her go, but she knew if it was Murphy that had come to get her, she would be taken care of; and that whatever the reason he was taking her must be important. Chrysanthemum hoped the old woman would understand. Waiting for her outside were Connor and David in the front seat of his car, with the former at the wheel. She breathed a sigh of relief. _At least he's alive._ When Murphy had come for her she'd expected the worst, but was glad now that she could see she'd been wrong. _But if Rocco is okay, then why is Murph freaking out?_ She thought, cutting her eyes to him. She liked the way the sun shone on his dark hair, and couldn't help but smile to herself. Pulling a pair of sunglasses she'd bought from a thrift store out of her jacket pocket, she pushed her bangs out of the way and deposited them onto her face; the afternoon sun may have been a little low in the sky, but it was still bright enough to make her squint.

Murphy gave a nervous glance around the street before ushering Chrys into the back seat, and sitting down beside her. Connor gunned it off of the curb without a word, and Murphy remained silent as well. Rocco's window was down and he had his elbow propped on it, with his head resting in his right hand, eyes closed. He must have done something bad, he was in self-loathy pout mode. He only ever acted like this when he'd seriously fucked up; that and when Donna had left him, and didn't come back for weeks.

"Is one of you going to explain to me what's goin' on? Or am I goin' to have to beat it out of yehs?" She said, trying to lighten the somber cloud that was hanging over her boys. Murphy half smiled at her, and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, but leaving it in his mouth, unlit. Connor just coughed into his fist, and David kept his eyes shut, not saying anything. This was starting to freak her out. What the fuck did Rocco do while he was gone? That's when she saw a small duffel bag in the floorboard at Murphy's feet. She grabbed it up and unzipped it; there were toiletries inside. All of their toothbrushes were present, soap, razors, even some toilet-paper. She zipped it back up and looked at Murphy, who had been watching her the whole time with his still-dormant cigarette in hand. "Murph, what's happening?" She pleaded him with her eyes. He cut his own away from her, not wanting to give in to the sweet syrupy way dread and worry made her voice sound.

"We'll sit down for a bite and explain everythin' then, darlin'." Connor spoke up from the driver's seat. David's eyes snapped open and he glared at Connor. "Whadd'ya mean sit down for a bite? We can't go nowhere public! Papa Joe's got eyes everywhere, man!" He said, waving his arms around in animated agitation. Connor slammed on the breaks just in time for the upcoming intersection's light to turn red, causing them all to lurch forward in their seats. Chrys nervously snapped her seat belt around her, then reached over to Murphy and made him do the same. "Calm the fuck down, Roc. We'll go somewhere quiet, nobody will recognize anyone." Connor said. Chrys was unable to decipher the look on his face, because he had his sunglasses on. The comment seemed to have the desired calming effect on David, and he relaxed in his seat.

Chrys scooted closer to Murphy and lay her head down on his shoulder, closing her eyes; he wrapped his arm tightly around her waist and placed a reassuring kiss on her crown. _It's going to be a long night._ She thought, because heaven knew it had already been a long fucking day. She attempted to take a short nap while Connor drove them out of town; she didn't want to think any further ahead than she had to. Right that second all she wanted to do was listen to Murphy's heart beating through his shirt, and lose herself in the warmth from his body.

The sound of one of the car doors slamming roused her, and Murphy nudged her further awake. She rubbed her eyes and followed him out of the car; looked all around. She didn't recognize the part of town they were in but it didn't matter. They all sat down in a dimly lit booth at the resatraunt Connor had pulled up in and ordered something to drink. Chrys folded her arms on the table-top and looked them all over. "Okay. Out with it." She said. Rocco adverted his eyes from her and Murphy pretended to be looking around for something in his coat; but Connor finally spoke up for them. "Rocco fucked up, Chrys. We're kind of on the run." His crystal clear blue eyes gazed at her from under his long lashes. A part of her had always wondered why boys' eyelashes were often so much longer than girls'. Its not like boys needed them to impress anyone. "What kind of fuck up are we talkin'?" She asked, taking a sip of her iced tea, which the waitress had just set down on a coaster in front of her. "Big time, man." Roc said, banging his head down on the table and causing several people to turn around in their chairs and stare at him. Chrys flipped them off. This was none of their fucking business.

They went on to explain to her that Rocco had gone to clear the water about the whole Copley Plaza ordeal, when he found out that it was indeed a set up, and that pretty much everyone he worked with was entirely surprised that he was even still alive. Upon figuring out that he'd been double-crossed, he shot and killed two mob peons he worked with in broad daylight, and the bartender, Sal, who also knew that Rocco was being set up by Papa Joe.

_That fucking asshole. _Chrys ran her hands through David's hair, which was still sprawled out all over their table; attempting to calm him. "It's okay, Roc." She cooed. "You're a fucking idiot for handling it like that, but everything is going to be fine. You know we'll take care of you." He lifted his head up and nodded. "I know." Murphy patted him on the shoulder from across the table. "Look on the bright side, Roc. At leas' you were able to control yer temper long enough to not kill Donna and Ravie when yeh got home."

"When did Donna get back?" Chrys asked, puzzled. "Just today," Connor answered. "She n' Ravie showed up high as fuckin' kites while you were at work." He shook his head and took a sip of his soda. "Did she ask about Skippy?" The boys laughed. "Yeah." Rocco said. "She didn't really care about that thing though, she was just lookin' for something else to hold over my head." _Poor David._ Chrys thought. She wished she could do more to make him feel better, but she knew there wasn't. Being stabbed in the back by the people you worked for and trusted wasn't a pain that was easily quelled with kind words.

They finished their food and drinks, then paid the tab and got back into the car. Chrys settled back into the back seat with Murphy. "So where are we goin'teh stay?" She asked. They were driving again, heading back toward South Boston. "We'll worry abou' that later." Connor said. "Aye. We've kind of got somethin' we need to do tonight." Murphy said, finishing his brother's train of thought. "Fuckin' Vincenzo." Rocco muttered from the front seat. _Oh._ She remembered the talk they all had last night, about turning evil men into dead men. Vincenzo was an evil man alright; on top of the many terrible things he had done in and before he joined the Italian mob, he had been the main player in the game of trying to make a fool out of Rocco and get him killed. "Okay. So where does that leave me?" She asked, leaning forward through the gap between the passenger and driver's seat, so that her head was in the front of the car. "We're gonna drop you off at Ellen's house fer safe-keepin', then come get you when we're done." Connor said, revealing no emotion. Chrys shook her head. "Nope. Nuh uh. You guys said-" Connor cut her off. "I know what we said, but we thought it over, and we don' want yeh involved, alrigh?" She narrowed her eyes at him. This wasn't up for discussion; she was going, period. "No it's not fuckin' alright. I'm not goin'the sit on my arse for the rest of my life waiting for you three. I'm. Fucking. Going. Or else." Connor's mouth scrunched up, in anger. He knew she was right, and so did Murphy. They couldn't expect her to keep house every single time they went off to play super hero, and they had said they would let her help them.

After a long and tense silence, Connor finally spat "Alright, already. Fuck! But yer not the get out of this fuckin' vehicle, do yeh understand me? You can be the getaway driver." She sat back into her seat, grinning from ear to ear and reveling in her defeat. She knew she would get her way in the end, she always did. When Connor refused to give in to what she wanted, all she ever had to do was beg Murph to convince his brother. It was like playing your parents off of each other as a kid. Easy as batting her eyelashes and making her voice all sexy and pouty. Murphy turned to her and shook his head. "Yer shameless, y'know tha'?" She nodded, and kissed him on the mouth. As surreptitiously as possible, her hand snuck its way under his shirt to the bare skin beneath, and she felt him shudder. He kissed her harder. Connor glared back at them from the rear-view mirror, and swerved the car, so Chrys flew in the other direction and off of his twin. "Oi! No fair! There will be no snoggin' in the car while I'm drivin'." Chrys innocently grinned back at him. "I've no idea what yer talkin' about." He grumbled. "Yeah, yeah."

She snuck up on the other side of the driver's seat and nibbled his ear. "Why don't you get Roc to drive and come back here with us?" She whispered hotly into his ear. "No fuckin' way I'm driving so you guys around so you can have a fuckin' orgy in my back seat." Rocco said, irritated. They all laughed and Chrys settled back into Murphy, she would have to be happy with just cuddling for now.

When they were finally back in town they pulled up in front of a club with a pink neon sign that read 'Sin Bin'. Chrys stuck her head out the window while the boys got some stuff out of the trunk. "Sounds lovely." She muttered, before getting out of the car and claiming the driver's seat. The twins came to the window and kissed her off. "Drive into that alley and wait for us to come out the back door." Connor said. "Aye. Try not to look conspicuous or nothin'." Murphy added. Chrys told them she would try her best, but made no promises. "You boys be careful, yeh hear?" She yelled at them as they walked away from the car, hoping they came out of that place in one piece.


	19. Mysterious Ways

Chrys had waited in the car for them for over an hour, with apprehension and fear rising inside her as every second ticked by. _They're not coming back._ She'd thought, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel. Several pedestrians and even a police cruiser had passed by the alley and seen her parked there, spiking her adrenaline into high gear; but to her surprise nobody gave her much of a second glance or came up to the vehicle.

Even though she promised herself a long time ago that she was going to kick the habit, she'd already chewed all the nails on her left hand down as far as she could, but before she could successfully mutilate all of the ones on her right, the trio of men busted out of the back door of the Sin Bin and into the alley, where she had been waiting with the getaway car. She thought they looked surprisingly jubilant, seeing as they just murdered someone. They were all holding their masks in hand, and Connor and Murphy were playfully shoving each other while Rocco was yelling something she couldn't hear while waving his hands around with his usual Italian vigor.

Connor lunged into the front seat, after having ditched his supplies in the trunk, with Murphy and Rocco not far behind, pushing the passenger and drivers' seats back so they could get into the back of the car. After they had taken off, Chrys spoke up "Well If we're goin'teh be don' this on a regular basis, we need to invest in a four-door. This push n' shove shit's gotta go." All of them laughed and Murphy leaned forward to place a kiss on her cheek. "Sorry I was so rough, love, just still a little excited, I guess."

"Aye!" Connor said, laughing. "We got Vincenzo and two other sleazy pricks while we were in there!" He waved his hands around, pretending they were little guns.

"I never thought it would be so exileratin'! The first time was kinda scary, but this one was fun!" Murphy said, head still poking into the front seat.

"Yeah, man." Rocco piped up. "I felt like such a badass, poppin' off those two wise guys." Connor turned his head around in his seat to face their Italian friend. "Yeah, I bet yeh felt like a real badass when you were feelin' up that titty dancer, too."

Chrysanthemum's eyes widened in shock, and she almost ran strait through a stop sign. "You did what, Rocco?" He paled, and physically sank back in his seat as she glared at him via the rear view mirror. "Why'd you have to go and tattle on me, man?" He asked Connor, embarrassed, and punched him on the shoulder. Connor and Murphy both smacked him upside the head, and shook their own heads in unison. "We've teamed up with a fuckin' sex offender." Murphy said.

"Aye." Connor agreed with his twin. Chrys just rolled her eyes, thinking that boys were all the same, and continued the drive to Rocco's mom's house, which was where they would all be staying until things cooled down; they'd decided. They had plenty of money for a hotel leftover from the Copley Plaza job, but they decided it would be easier and less conspicuous to stay at a private residence and save their money; and since the FBI and BPD had no idea Rocco was even involved in any of this yet, it seemed like the perfect course of action.

Chrys lay snuggled in between Connor and Murphy in the guest bedroom of Rocco's mother's house, but none of them had been able to get any sleep; Rocco had taken his old bedroom, and his mother decided to leave town and let them have the house to themselves for a while. David had only explained a little of what was going on, but his mother understood; she was a smart woman, unlike her hot-headed son.

Chrys twirled a piece of Murphy's hair between her fingers, and he nuzzled her hand. Connor had his arms wrapped around her torso from behind, and was kissing the soft skin at the nape of her neck. Chrys exhaled, softly. She hadn't been as worried about the job they had done today as she was about the one they planned to do tomorrow. They had all sat down at a coffee shop on the way to Rocco's mom's, and Rocco had broached the subject of a new target; from the way he made this guy sound, it was going to be some heavy shit. She didn't want them to get hurt. She knew they had this new calling to get rid of evil men and thugs and drug dealers and all; she loved them for it. It was an amazing idea, protecting innocent people by getting rid of the cause of all their pain, as opposed to just the symptoms. Hell, she was proud of them. They were so smart. However she hadn't really thought through before now just how dangerous all of this was going to be; how much risk it was putting them all in.

When they had all talked about it in David's apartment, it had seemed to her more like a far-fetched idea or dream than anything; she hadn't expected them to take any more action in the vigilante direction after the Russian hit. After all, that one had just fallen into their laps. These new jobs were planned and thought out; sometimes not so well, either, considering Connor's penchant for copying action movies' plotlines. Connor and Murphy were excited about the new job, and couldn't wait to put their plan into action. However, this time they had put their foot down and told Chrys she wasn't coming. She didn't put up much of a fight, she knew this new job was much more serious than today's had been, she would just have to bunker down here and watch the news, awaiting their return.

"I love you." She whispered to both of them. They both returned her affectionate words in their respective loving voices. How had she been so lucky, to have had both of them at her side all her life? Protecting and taking care of her? She couldn't imagine a girl in the whole world luckier than she was; her lovers were perfect, they were her brothers and her friends. "Promise me the two of you will come back to me tomorrow." She begged; she was turned around now, searching Connor's eyes with her own. He sighed, the breath leaving his lungs in one expansive whoosh, causing his muscles to constrict and tighten. "I know ye're worried, darlin', but I wish you wouldn't be." He said, pulling her closer to him. "We'll take care of ourselves, jus' like always." Murphy offered, hoping to console her. "I know." She said, defeated. "But I'm never goin'te stop worryin'. It's dangerous, the shit you two have gotten into. I mean it's good, but still dangerous. I just hope the two of you don't get in over yer heads."

"We won't." Murphy said, and began to trail kisses from her mouth and down her jawline. "Aye, we promise, love. No matter how many pieces we're in, we'll always come back to yeh." Connor said, smiling sweetly. They always knew just what to say to bring her out of her defeated states of mind. She would be lost without them. Grabbing Connor's shoulders, she pulled him down on top of her and pressed her lips into his. They spent the rest of the night wrapped up in each other's bodies, enjoying the time alone together. The boys made love to Chrys, and the entire time she couldn't stop thinking how lucky she was to have the both of them; and they vice versa. Before they each gave in to unconsciousness, buried together in a tangle of arms and legs, Chrysanthemum murmured "And for God's sake boys, take care of David." Heaven knew if it weren't for Connor and Murphy keeping a handle on Rocco's temper, he would have gotten himself killed a long time ago.

When she woke up the next morning, they were gone. She hadn't expected them to be there, but it still left a small, nervous hole in her chest. _Oh well._ She thought. She was just going to have to get over her apprehension and wait them out. She had been hungry, so she went to the donut shop around the corner and grabbed a few kolaches and a carton of chocolate milk. She thought she saw one of the detectives from the murder she had passed by in the alley all that time ago, but couldn't be sure. She caught the man's eyes as she passed by him on her way out of the shop. It was Duffy, the shorter one. He looked taken aback, as if wondering why this strange woman was staring him down. She just smiled at him and shook her head. _Wonder if their theories have gotten any less ridiculous?_ She thought to herself as she walked down the sidewalk on the way back to back, smiling a little.

She received no warning for the cluster fuck that busted in through the door later that day. No spidey-sense, no voice in her head telling her to be prepared. She had been biting her fingernails again, keeping one eye on the news broadcast for any snippets about the boys, and the other eye on one of Rocco's mother's old romance novels. She flipped through the dog-eared pages, looking at the words but not really taking any of them into her mind and stringing them together.

Her whole world sped up when Connor, Murphy, and David burst in through the front door, covered from head to toe with blood and still bleeding from various gunshot wounds, yelling at each other at the top of their lungs. Something had gone terribly fucking wrong. Chrys jumped out of her seat and ran to them. "What the fuck happened?" She yelled. Murphy looked at her, but she otherwise went unnoticed as the boys argued. "Who the fuck was he, Rocco? I know you fuckin' know!" Connor screamed at their friend. Chrys gave up and rushed around the house, looking for a first-aid kit, or some kind of medical supplies. "Well he sure as fuck knew you!" She heard Murphy's angry voice from the bathroom, where she was frantically opening and closing every drawer and cabinet, riffling through them. _Shit!_ She brought her hands to her head. There was nothing here but peroxide and a few bandages. They couldn't go to a hospital, they'd ask too many questions, and the free clinic wouldn't be able to treat gun shot wounds as serious as theirs looked. She was at a loss._ What should I do?_ Her mind skipped back to their past in Ireland, remembering how her mother had treated a deep cut her older brother had obtained one day.

She had an idea of what they could do, but the boys weren't going to like it. They were just going to have to get over it though, they should have been more careful. _I fucking told those idiots to be careful! _ She grabbed a roll of gauze and rushed back into the living room where the three were still standing, breathing heavily; still clearly confused and angry.

"One of you idiots get me a fucking iron." She said, pushing all of the chairs away from the dining room table. None of them argued with her, and Connor fetched what she'd asked.

They fixed Murphy first, holding him down and giving him a torn piece of cloth to bite down on. Conner pressed the white hot metal to his brother's wound; he'd been hit in the arm. After they'd cauterized it Chrys wrapped it up with gauze and kissed him. He was covered in sweat and there were tears in his eyes. It hurt her so bad to see him in pain, but it couldn't be helped. They were trading immense pain now for the pain of infection, or worse, later.

Chrys held Connor's hand clutched in her own and watched, other hand over her mouth, as Murphy restrained his brother and David burned the bullet hole on his leg shut. Tears squeezed out of her eyes as Connor held her gaze, with his free hand buried in his twin's hair, trying to take his mind off of the blinding hot pain that was now tearing through him.

When she realized that not only was Rocco injured as well, but that his fucking pinky finger had been blown _off,_ she couldn't take anymore. She rushed into the now completely disheveled bathroom and vomited into the sink, having not been able to hold it long enough to get to the toilet. She buried her face in her arms and sobbed. This was all too much for her to handle at once. _At least they came back,_ a soft voice whispered in the back of her mind. _They may not be whole, but they're alive. They're still with you._ She nodded to herself and washed off, putting a game face on and pulling herself together. The voice was right. Her world was still intact as long as they were with her.

She kissed the twins on the lips, and David on the cheek, then grabbed them all beers from the fridge. She wasn't going to scold them anymore, they were past that point. They explained how everything had gone wrong, and that a man they had no idea about showed up with six fucking guns and tried to kill them. The television was still mumbling in the background, when Agent Smecker came on the news and explained that he was heading up an investigation against the three of them, and possibly a fourth getaway driver. Rocco snapped it off, but it was too late.

Chrys started crying again. She couldn't help it. Not only had everything that could possibly go wrong gone wrong, now the Feds knew who they were after; and had even guessed that she was involved. Connor and Murphy got up from their seats and held her, begging her not to cry, because they hated it. They tried to assure her that everything was going to be fine, But even they knew that was a lie; or at the very least an uncertainty. None of them knew whether or not everything was going to be okay. They were in trouble, now.

Rocco gave Chrys a reassuring hug as well. "Don't worry Chryssy. We'll figure something out." She just sniffled and lay her head on his shoulder. Her eyes stung, and her cheeks were red and puffy from her rubbing them. She hoped he was right. After their embrace, he surveyed the blood and gore that now decorated his mother's house, and rubbed what was left of his hand through his dark curly hair. "Man, my mom's gonna kill me." He said, completely serious.

Chrysanthemum laughed, loud, and both Connor and Murphy joined her, Connor beating the table with his fist, and Murphy stomping his feet against the kitchen tile. Rocco looked at them like they were nuts. "What? What's so funny?" Chrys was holding her sides, in stitches now. She was about to be sick again from laughing so hard. "Roc, I don't know what we'd do without yeh." She sputtered, between fits. "I love yeh to death." They all did. Leave it to Rocco to bring the humor out of a dire situation and share it with everyone else.

Connor, Chrys, and Murphy fell asleep on the couch sandwiched in each other's arms, exhausted, too tired to even eat. Rocco was curled up under a blanked at the foot of the couch, beneath them.

The next morning they awoke bright and early, and Rocco drove the three of them to mass. He went to buy a pack of cigarettes while they were in the chapel.

Chrysanthemum knelt between Connor and Murphy, and prayed. She found herself asking God to protect them all, keep them safe. _I hope you're leading them in the right direction._ She told Him, pressing her rosary to her lips._ And that you're really behind them in all of this._ It would break her heart if it wasn't really God that had called them to smite evil men, and that what they were doing was wrong. She had a sense of peace that told her otherwise, though. She knew her twins were special; and that they had been called to do this. _Thank you for giving them to me, Father. A girl couldn't ask for two better guardian angels._

It was then that Chrysanthemum noticed Connor was no longer kneeling beside her. She glanced around, inconspicuously, trying to figure out where he might have gone. Murphy was still on her right, deep in prayer; he couldn't have seen where his brother had gotten off to. As quietly as possible, she brought herself to a standing position, and looked around the cathedral once more.

She heard scuffling and what sounded like voices coming from the mouth of the church, and spun on her heel, but there was no one there when she turned.

"The laws of God are higher than the laws of man." She heard a voice say, quietly, and she turned to where she thought it had come from; the confession booths. She began to walk toward them just as Murphy looked up, and saw that she and Connor were absent. He scooted out of the aisle they had been in and followed behind her, curious as to what was going on.

Then, a very disheveled looking Agent Smecker exited the confessional, and staggered out of the church. Chrys and Murphy shared a look of complete and utter confusion. _What the hell is going on?_ Their expressions only grew more baffled when Rocco and Connor exited as well, Connor looking mad as a bull, and David grinning his face off. "The lord works in mysterious ways." The latter said, giggling. Connor slapped him in the back of the head, then looked up and noticed his lover and twin, staring at him.

Chrys shook her head and began making her way out of the church and onto the street. "I'm not even goin'teh ask." She called behind her, waving her hand in defeat. Those boys were a force of nature only she could handle; and sometimes she wasn't so sure how much longer she would be able to, before it killed her.

The four of them were back outside now, and David handed each of the twins a cigarette from the pack he had bought earlier, then they all lit up. Chrysanthemum smiled, taking Connor's right hand and Murphy's left, walking between them down the streets of South Boston. Rocco took a long draw from his cigarette, and exhaled the smoke, his sunglasses glinting in the morning sunlight.

"So what now?"


	20. Blood and Tears

_Hey everyone! Sorry about the wait. It's been finals and homework and blah blah blah. But I'm back! I know it's short but I wanted to get what I had out right away for everyone. Remember to review!_

There weren't thoughts running through Chrysanthemum's mind; there was only blinding pain. Her head was throbbing, and she could hear a faint ringing noise in her ears that was making her dizzy. She had given up struggling against the man who had her bound arms restrained behind her back; she just didn't have it left in her. Yakavetta had just been in to threaten poor David for information, but he refused, earning him another missing finger. Chrys had screamed, cried, and kicked until her throat was raw, which only angered the goon who had a hold on her. She wanted so bad to go to David and hold him; tell him it was all going to be alright, and that they'd be out of this fucking room soon. Even if she had had the chance to tell him those things she wouldn't have. It would have been a lie, after all. All she could do was watch as the boys yelled and Rocco writhed in pain on the floor, and listen to the voices yelling outside of the tiny tomb of a room that she and all of her boys were now sealed in.

Murphy turned around in his chair to gaze at her, and it made her feel surprisingly calm. It was his eyes, she decided. No matter what was going on, all she had to do was look into his eyes and a sort of serenity befell her, quelling her worried mind. _This was such a stupid idea._ She thought, breaking eye contact. What had made any of them think that they were going to make it out of this outlandish endeavor alive? An attempt to take out Pappa Joe on his own territory? _We were fucking idiots. We should have gone to New York and left it alone. _She felt a little responsible. She had helped them, after all; encouraged them to do this, even. She hadn't been her usual level-headed self and thought it all through, weighing the pros and cons. Now look where they were.

Chrys attempted to shift her weight, because her bad ankle had started to ache. She was pretty sure it was sprained again now, if not fractured. The thug holding her shoved her forward, and she tripped over Rocco's fallen chair. "I told you not to fucking move!" he spat. "Get yer fuckin hands of her!" Connor yelled. Murphy spat blood at the Italian's feet with gusto. "You fuckin' wait till I get outta this chair" he growled, once beautiful eyed full of peace now clouded with anger and wrath. While she was on the ground, Chrys' eyes met Rocco's. In them she saw so much pain that it made her sick to her stomach. She wanted his puppy dog grin to light up his face and the whole room with it. Her eyes began to well up. Rocco would never be the same again, she realized; If any of them even made it out of here alive. David saw her pained expression, and attempted to quiet her fears. "Don't cry for me, Chryssy. I'm the funny man. I'll always come bouncing back." He managed to say between shuddering breaths; he could only muster up half of a smile, but it was enough. Enough to cheer her up and break her heart at the same time. "I love you, Roc." She whispered. Before he could reply, the anonymous goon kicked Rocco in the ribs, then righted his chair roughly so he was back in a sitting position; he then grabbed Chrys up from the floor, yanking her back up onto her feet, grumbling for them to shut up. "Fuck you, asshole." Chrys spat blood in his face. She wasn't going to deal with this fucker anymore. She didn't care if he was armed or if her arms were bound; she'd ankle bite him to death if she had to. "Why you little-" he stopped and lowered the hand he was about to slap her with. Chrys had been too preoccupied to notice that there were no longer any raised voices leaking into the room from the hallway. Everyone around her quieted, trying to discern the direction of the heavy footfalls they were hearing. In an instant, the door swung open, and time slowed down.

It barely registered in Rocco's brain when Pappa Joe waltzed in, seemingly with a purpose, his face devoid of any and all emotion. _Fuck him. _He thought. _I'll let him shoot off all my fuckin' fingers._ Out of the corner of his eye he saw Chrys turn to move, and heard her gasp. He turned back to Pappa Joe and saw the gun aimed straight at him, it was only then that he realized what was about to happen and panicked. He had been ready to lose a few fingers; but was he willing to die? Chrys was running towards Pappa Joe, but the guy who had been holding her caught her and knocked her out with a hard right hook. It was a good thing she was out; David didn't want her to see any of this. David Della Rocco stared strait into the eyes of the infamous Mafia Don before him, and then heard Connor scream "God, No!"


	21. Wake up

Only a few hours earlier, everything had been fine; nobody was tied up, nobody was upset, and nobody was dead. The four of them had left the church and had a bite to eat while they formulated the plan to get rid of Yakaevetta for good. They also decided now would be a good time to disappear for a while, before things got any more intense in Boston. Rocco said he had some friends in New York that could give them a place to hide for a while, and it was decided that after Pappa Joe was out of the picture, that was where they would head. Afterward they called up Agent Smecker to let him know the details on the man who had tried to kill the three of them yesterday.

Chrys kicked a pebble at Murphy's shoe while Connor chatted up the FBI agent on the nearest working payphone. He looked down at it and took a draw from his cigarette, then smiled and kicked a bigger one back in her direction, but ended up misdirecting it with his foot, and it went flying toward Rocco, pegging him hard in the shin. "Ow dude! What the fuck!" he cried and bent down to pick the rock up and throw it back at Murphy. Before it could leave his hand, Connor slammed down the receiver. "Would the three of you quit fuckin' around?" he said, putting his hands in coat and fishing around for his cigarettes. "We gotta go get our shit together."

They all piled into the car and made the drive back to Mrs. Della Rocco's place, where the got together what little supplies and belongings they had and put them in the trunk of the car. Rocco gave his mom a call and let her know he would be out of touch for a while. She didn't ask questions, only told him to be careful and give her a call when it was safe for him to do so. Chrys noticed that Connor seemed especially agitated about the whole situation. He kept grumbling and furrowing his brow as he cleaned off the parts of his gun and silencer. She caught his forearm on his way into to the bathroom and closed the door behind them. "What's wrong, baby?" she asked, searching his eyes for the answer.

He said nothing, only rubbed the back of his head. He was worried, she knew. He knew that pulling off tonight without a hitch was going to be hard, and that someone was probably going to get hurt. She surprisingly wasn't as apprehensive as he was. It was a solid plan after all; she knew he boys could do it. She took both sides of his unshaven face in her hands and brought it level with hers. His lips felt like warm liquid against her own, and she reacted by pressing her body against him. He picked her up and set her gently on top of the sink, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She could feel the warmth rising from the pit of her stomach, she wanted him bad; and she knew he wanted the same thing. The proof was pressed against her thigh right now, but they both knew there was no time for that. There was a knock at the door and Murphy's voice interrupted their tryst. "Hey Conn, we need to find Chrys get goin'." She walked to the bathroom door and opened it, pulling Murphy in by the collar of his shirt. His would be cry of surprise was muffled by her lips crashing into his.

They were out the door and on the road in another half hour. The plan was to get in, get the job done, and get out of Boston as fast as they could. Once again Chrys was stuck as the getaway driver, but at least this time she got her own gun. She parked the car far enough down the street to go unnoticed, and the boys got out of the car to retrieve their weapons. "You boys better be careful." She said, giving them all bear hugs. "You as well." Murphy said. "Aye. Don't go shootin' yerself with that thing." Connor said, poking the gun she had tucked into the waistband of her jeans. She gave the twins kisses on the lips, and placed one on each of David's cheeks. Crossing her arms over her chest she watched as they kept low and in the shadows going toward Yakavetta's house. Sighing, she got back into the car. _And now we wait._ She thought, wishing now more than ever that she had picked up the habit of smoking; she could use something besides worry to pass her time while they were in there. _Aw what the hell._ She began to rummage around the car in search for a spare stick. There was bound to be one rolling around somewhere. She opened the center console, but only discovered a few pens, some receipts, and a pair of sunglasses. Just as she was about to open the glove compartment to have a look, she heard tapping on her window. _Are they done already?_ She spun around in her seat to have a look, but no one was there. Without thinking she popped the locks and opened the door, stepping out of the car and into the middle of the street. There was no one around. "Connor?" She called. "Murphy, was that you guys?" She was getting uneasy. If it wasn't them, then who could it have possibly been? _Probably just the wind or something._

"Don't scream, sweetheart." She wouldn't have had time to even if that's what she had wanted. Yakavetta's man had already grabbed her from behind, his grimy fingers covering her mouth. The car door stood open as he began dragging her toward the same house the boys had gone in not too long ago. Her mind raced. What happened? Who was this man? Most importantly, were her boys alright? In a moment she would soon find out.

Chrysanthemum's head was throbbing when she came around. She opened the eye that wasn't swollen shut and took in the scene around her. One of Poppa Joe's men lie dead on the floor, and the chairs the boys had been lay in pieces on the floor. _Wait, where are they?_ She had only begun to look around the room when she saw him. He was sitting in his chair in the middle of the room, unmoving, with pennies in his eyes. There was blood pooled on the floor below him. Her bottom lip began to quiver as she put the pieces of what happened together in her mind. Images of Poppa Joe barging into the room so nonchalantly, and pointing a gun at Rocco flashed through her mind. "D-david?" her voice came out in a whispered hush. "David." She said louder now, trying to get his attention. He had to get up so they could all get out of here and go to New York and live happily ever after just like before. A warm fat tear rolled out of her eye and down her cheek. "DAVID!" She screamed his name. The reality that her best friend was dead wasn't getting through to her. All she wanted him to do was get up. She screamed at the top of her lungs and began to sob.

Connor, Murphy, and their father had roused Agent Smecker in the living room, and were explaining how all of the night's events had come together and gone so horribly awry, when they heard her screaming. "Oh shit." Connor said, and the twins both spun around and ran back into the room they had escaped from. Chrys was a mess. Her hands were still bound and she was curled up against the wall screaming Rocco's name as loud as she could. Without a word they went to her, smothering her with their arms and trying to calm her down. They had never meant for her to see him like that, but they had been a little preoccupied with the fact that they had just discovered their father was Il Duce, and also the one who had been trying to kill them. "Oh my God, please wake him up!" she yelled. "Shhhhh sweet'eart." Murphy cooed in her ear. They braced each side of her and got her up on her feet, ushering her toward the door. She fought them to go back. "No! We can't leave him here!" she cried. Connor and Murphy were at a loss for what to do or even say. They were hurting bad for Rocco, but his death had clearly been all that Chrys could take. She was broken. Connor tore the duct tape around her wrists, then picked her up bridal style and carried her out the door and back to the car, set her down in the back seat, and shut the door behind her. She didn't fight him.

Smecker, Murphy, Noah, and Connor all stood congregated under a lamp post on the otherwise darkened residential road. Connor lit up two cigarettes and handed one to his brother, since his hand was now busted up beyond recognition. All four men exchanged glances of equal bewilderment. Everyone's plans had been shot to shit tonight. "So what now?" Connor asked, exhaling smoke.

A week later, Chrys was straitening her hair and putting on makeup in the safe house Smecker was allowing them all to stay in. She didn't know why she was even bothering to put makeup on, she was just going to cry it all off later. She applied thick globs of concealer over the bruises around her eyes, cheek, and neck, then reached back and zipped up the black dress she had found at a thrift store the day before. There was a soft knock on the door behind her. "Come in."

"Are yeh ready, dear?" Noah MacManus stood in the threshold of the room with a sympathetic look on his face. It hadn't been hard for her to wrap her head around him being Connor and Murphy's father; they looked and acted just alike. Noah was a little more mature, obviously, but aside from that, the proverbial apples hadn't fallen far from the tree. She sighed, and whispered "Aye. I suppose so." When she got outside she was greeted her twins, who gave her a hug and a kiss, and ushered her into the car. When everyone was situated, the car pulled out of the driveway and headed up town to the mausoleum David Della Rocco was being put to rest in that morning.


	22. Good Influence

Chrys, Connor, and Murphy lay awake, tangled up in each other just as they had so many countless times before. Connor had his arm draped over Chrys possessively, as was his custom, and was tracing circles around her navel, while Murphy gave in to his addiction to playing with her hair. The funeral had been hard on them all, and they were exhausted, but they would pull through it. Rocco wouldn't want them to be sad, he would want them to live life just the way they had before; jovially and uncomplicated. Or at least as uncomplicated as a pair of vigilante twins and their girlfriend could hope to be. Chrys was happy to have some alone time with her boys, ever since they had discovered their father they'd spent almost every waking hour with him, talking about the many years they'd spent apart.

Chrys herself had been kind of hard for them to explain to him, but after several weeks spent with her, Noah MacManus came to understand why his sons valued her so, and it wasn't difficult to deduct from her own behavior that she loved Connor and Murphy equally; and more than anything. Chrys immediately took a liking to Noah, she found his presence comforting, not unlike the way Murphy made her feel sometimes; like just so long as she was in the same room as that person, she felt like nothing would ever be wrong again. He had an edge to him though, the same as Connor, that made her strangely attracted to and a little intimidated by him at the same time. It was nice to have a paternal figure around too, since the memory of her own father had been tainted by Lile Cagney, and all that she found out about her dad's true colors.

The unconventional Irish family of four had spent almost two months regrouping and debriefing, and it was high time they decided how to deal with the issue they had failed at dealing with before. Giuseppe Yakavetta. He had all but prison raped their lives, and the lives of all middle-class South Bostonians in one way or another, and they were tired of letting it slide right off his back. The boys and their father had beet keeping in close contact with Agent Paul Smecker, and with the information he was able to pass along they had been slowly putting pieces of a plan together; but they knew they were going to need help from Smecker and the BPD to pull it all off without any serious hitches.

"So where are we supposed to be meeting them tomorrow?" Chrys asked, half expecting both twins to be asleep. They had been laying there together for quite some time now.

"There are some undeveloped houses near the docks on the west side. We're supposed to be meetin' in one of them." She had been wrong. Murphy was awake. Connor on the other hand, had been half asleep and whined for them to shut it.

"You shut it." Chrys said, throwing her elbow backward into Connor's ribs. "We're tryin' to have a conversation here, yeh big baby." Connor leaned forward and bit her on the shoulder. "Oh yeah? Well I'm tryin' to fuckin' sleep! Haven't gotten a decent night's sleep in a week, wit' you two fuckin' all the time."

Chrys cried out in pain, then turned around and flicked him on the nose. "Last time I checked, I've been fuckin' the both of yehs. So you better shut yer pie hole, or I really will start just sleepin' wit' Murph." She threatened, sticking her tongue out at him, even though she knew he wouldn't be able to see it in the darkness.

He shot up in bed and wagged his pointer finger threateningly at them both. "You better not even joke about that shit. Ye'll give me a fuckin' heart attack."

Murphy and Chrys laughed and snorted. They loved giving Connor a hard time. "Well how d'yeh know she was jokin'? We might be sneakin' around behind yeh and knockin' it out all the time." Murphy said, trying to be strait, but he couldn't stop laughing.

"Aye." Chrys said. "I'd say I bone Murph at least three times more than I do you in a day." Connor was silent. They had done it now, and they knew it. "I'm goin'te throttle both of you assholes!" And with that, the usual rounds of wrestling ensued. First it would be Connor against them both, then Murphy would give in to the dark side and team up with his brother against Chrys, and then their innocent play fighting would slowly but surely metamorphose into something a lot less angelic than it began as.

Chrys rose with the sun the next morning, and entered the den to discover Noah lounging in an armchair, puffing away on a waning cigarette. She nodded and murmured a good morning, before heading to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee for the boys when they drug themselves out of bed. They had been quite enjoying this whole sleeping in business, and Chrys hated them for it. Her internal clock seemed to be psychologically set to wake her up between 7 and 8 each morning.

"Lass?" Chrys heard the patriarch of the MacManus family address her from the den, and she trotted back to him from the kitchen, wondering what he would want with her. "Yes sir?" She answered him, smoothing out her unruly ginger curls a little nervously.

"Come and sit down, dear. Humor an old man for a while." She did as she was told and made herself comfortable in the patchy gray overstuffed armchair that sat directly across from the one he was currently occupying. Noah leaned forward and snubbed out the butt of his cigarette in a stone ashtray that was on the small coffee table in front of him. Chrys took notice for the first time of the butterfly he had tattooed on his weather worn hand, and found it lovely. She didn't realize she had been staring at it until his soft and throaty voice called her attention to his face.

"I can't express the gratitude I have for you, for taking care of me boys all these years I couldn't."

Chrys was taken by surprise. If she had been expecting anything, it certainly wasn't that. Hell, she hadn't even been sure he liked her. She didn't know how she would feel if she had two sons that were both dating the same girl. _Probably kick all three of their asses._ She found herself blushing at his statement anyways.

"I don't deserve that. I really haven't done anything special. I mean, their mom did most of the taking care of them, and me too, I guess."

He nodded, but didn't relent his side of the argument.

"If I know their mother, and I do, I'll be willing to bet that once you came along and she saw a way out of the responsibility of raising two rowdy boys by herself, and passed the buck right on to yeh. She would want to know they would be taken care of without having to do any of the work herself."

Chrys blanched and laughed nervously. He had hit the nail right on the head, but she would never make a disparaging remark about Mrs. MacManus out loud, not after all the woman had done for her; even if it was true.

Noah smiled. He was able to take from her reaction that she understood but didn't want to be disrespectful; and he liked that. "Don't get me wrong, she loved them boys more than anything. But she wasn't the kind of woman that wanted to be the den mother of a house full of men. Too restless, ye'see. She would have cracked under all the pressure; she's not as strong as you are." He leaned forward and looked into her eyes so that she would know he was serious.

"I'm really not, I mean they have done so much more for me-" Chrys wasn't used to being told she was doing a good job, and almost didn't know how to react. She had never been particularly comfortable when people gave her compliments, she never felt like she deserved them.

"I don't think you realize how much you've done to shape who they are today; how different they would be without your influence. I can see it in the way they act and hear it in the way they talk to you. They love you Chrys, and have the utmost respect for you, as odd as it is." He laughed at the end of his sentence, and Chrysanthemum found she liked the way his face lit up when he smiled.

"Well, thank you sir. Coming from you, that means a lot." It did mean a lot to her. It brought her happiness to know that their father approved of her, and that she was doing a good job of taking care of her boys.

_I planned on writing more, but it's four o'clock in the morning, and my batteries are running low. Sorry not much went on in this one. Love you guys!_


	23. Brotherly Booty Call

Upon entering the abandoned house Smecker had given them the address to later in the evening, Chrysanthemum was surprised to find a few familiar faces in the room. There waiting for the trio was not only Paul, but none other than the three ridiculous detectives she had stumbled upon all that time ago; Duffy, Dolly, and of course Greenly. Duffy, who she had ran into at the donut shop before, did a double take when he saw her. "Don't I know you from somewhere?" he asked, pointing at her. Chrys reached out to shake his hand. "No. Well, not really. I mean, I've seen you guys around." Everyone made the rounds and introduced themselves.

"It's really cool to finally be meeting you guys." Detective Dolly spoke up. "We've heard so much about you from Smecker and the news and stuff."

The boys smiled sheepishly and murmured thank you's. "It means a lot to us that you guys are going out on a limb to help." Chrys said, attempting to break the semi-awkward silence. She really was grateful to them for staking their jobs to help the cause, they could have easily turned she, Connor, and Murphy in for a sizable sum of money.

A confused expression crossed Greenly's face for half a second before he spoke up. "Not to be rude or anything, but what is a broad doing here? I thought we were working with just two guys." Chrys' smile fell. _Is this going to turn into one of those 'girls belong in the kitchen, go make me a sandwich' situations?_ She thought. _Because I have definitely had enough of that shit to last me a lifetime._

Smecker let out an exasperated sigh. "Greenly, what will it take for you to shut your friggin' mouth?" Smecker had had it up to here with Greenly's partial if not complete mental retardation, from crackpot serial crusher theories to his general lack of being able to figure anything out, Paul had long ago begun to wonder how he'd even managed to acquire a badge. Now it seemed plausible to add tactlessness to his growing list of undesirable character flaws.

"We're kind of a package deal, the three of us." Connor said. "Aye. Chrys just comes with the territory." Murphy said, helping his brother explain. What else were they supposed to say? Chrys was as much of a Saint of South Boston as they were. She may not have done any actual dispatching herself, but she'd been with them since the beginning, caring for them and doing whatever she could to help, and she would sure as hell be with them until the end.

"So what does she do?" Dolly asked. "I mean, with all do respect, takin' out wise guys doesn't cross me as much of a woman's job." Chrys rolled her eyes, but decided not to comment or get too miffed. She couldn't blame these cops who barely knew her or the twins for not understanding their dynamic right off the bat. Duffy had remained silent, listening to his coworkers question Chrys' presence there. She immediately liked him best.

"She's our getaway driver." Murphy offered. "Yeah, and she takes care of us and stuff." Connor said, joining his brother in beating around the bush. It seemed there was no easy way to answer the question.

"Oh for Christ sake." Paul Smecker's outburst drew all eyes in his direction. "She's their girlfriend. Now will you all shut the fuck up so we can get down to buisiness? She wouldn't be here if I thought she didn't need to be." _Can't beat that logic._ It did make a lot of sense. Why would Smecker allow an operation as important as this one be compromised by the presence of a girlfriend if she didn't play an elemental part in it, or would just get in the way? Duffy and Dolly seemed a little confused at Smecker's revelation. "So you mean…" Duffy trailed off, pointing his finger at Conner and Murphy, then back to Chrys, as if to insinuate something more was going on there.

"So what you're telling me is, you're both fucking her." Greenly asked, unabashed. Chrys snorted and burst out laughing, and the twins grinned devilishly. "I s'pose that's exactly what we're tellin' yeh." Murphy said. Why hadn't they just come out and said that in the first place? It was after all, the most accurate explanation. She's our girlfriend, yes both of us are dating the same girl, she cleans up after us and occasionally joins in on our life of vigilante shenanigans.

"Nice." Greenly said, and all three detectives nodded to Connor and Murphy in some twisted form of Macho respect. Chrysanthemum and Paul didn't find it as amusing as they all did. "Ugh. Boys are retarded." She uttered, rubbing her eyes in disdain. "I agree." Smecker said winking and nodding at Chrys with girlish comradery, and then took a piece of notebook paper out of his pocket. "Now, can you Irish bozos sober up so we can get down to business?"

Chrys shot him a look implying that she didn't like to be lumped into the 'Irish Bozo' category, and Smecker quickly corrected himself. "Not you, sweetie. You're the only other person in here with a level head on you."

"Hey man, I have my moments." Greenly countered, trying and failing miserably to defend his own ridiculousness. Paul just rolled his eyes, and began to lay out the plan for everyone. "Yakavetta's trial date is in little under a month. It's all for petty shit, and they're never going to have enough evidence to put him away for any reasonable amount of time. All of his goons will be there, but because of tight security and metal detectors they're not going to be able to sneak any lethal weapons in, if they're able to get any in at all, leaving Yakavetta completely unprotected. This is going to be our one and only chance boys, unless you want a repeat of the clusterfuck at his house two months ago."

It could be assumed a unanimous decision that nobody wanted to go through anything like that again. _No more dying, no more fuck ups. _Chrys wasn't sure she could handle losing anyone else. All of them listened with rapt attention as Paul lay out all the pieces of the plan, and everyone's part in it. They all had crucial roles in getting the MacManus family in the courthouse to get their job done, and out again without anyone but Pappa Joe getting hurt.

All the while the FBI agent had been speaking to them, Chrys couldn't help but notice detective Greenly trying to surreptitiously inch himself closer and closer to her side. When he was directly beside her, he leaned his head down to her ear, speaking quietly so only she could hear him."So um, I have a brother who lives around here. Y'know, since you're into in that kind of thing." _Oh my God._ Was this guy for real? Chrys could hardly believe her little ears. _Since you're into that kind of thing? Who does this guy think I am, some kind of sibling threesome fetishist? _She recoiled at the thought of sleeping with any other pair of men besides her boys. It just didn't seem right with anyone else, as weird as that sounded. She and the boys were an exception to the rule kind of thing; it just wouldn't work with any other combination of people.

Chrys gave Greenly a look of utter repugnance and punched him in the shoulder. "In your dreams, horn dog!" He cried out, grabbing his arm where she'd struck him."Ow! Why did you hit me?" He seemed genuinely surprised that she'd been ballsy enough to strike him. This guy clearly hadn't met many solid girls if he hadn't come across one who had hit him yet._ Maybe he doesn't get out much…then again, that's not so hard to imagine._

"Because you're a fuckin' retard!" Chrys wanted to be aggravated that he was so pervy, but she knew he didn't mean it in a malicious way; he was just a goofball. She could see it in his eyes, and the way he carried himself. In a way, he reminded her of David; how his humor was self-depreciating, but in Greenly's case the deprecation was unintentional; David had always poked fun at himself on purpose. The thought made her a little sad, but only for a moment.

In the meantime, Smecker had ceased his game plan, and everyone else in the room had stopped and turned to look at the two of them.

"Well Greenly, would you mind sharing what was so important for you to interrupt me with the rest of the class?" Smecker said, matter-of-factly, and crossed his arms over his chest. Chrys smiled, seeing an opportunity to embarrass her pervy friend. "He said he wants to fuck me." She deadpanned, waiting with baited breath for everyone's reaction. Agent Smecker waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Well, well, well, it seems like you two have some competition." He said, motioning to Connor and Murphy, neither of which looked pleased with the situation.

"For your sake, I hope she was jokin'." Connor said, cracking his knuckles, and if looks could kill, Murphy would have just murdered Greenly, who put his palms forward in surrender. "Hey now guys, I was uh, I didn't mean uh-" He was caught in a corner. Option one, tell the truth, and get his ass kicked by two Irish bad asses. Option two, make up a lie, and probably still get ass kicked. Option three…

"He didn't mean anything by it boys. He's just a goober." Chrys said, just managing to save Greenly's ass. She'd had her fun, anyway. She knew if she let it go much further the boys would get all hot and bothered, and not in the way she enjoyed.

The rest of the meeting went rather uneventfully, Smecker laid out the rest of his plan and everyone got to know each other a little better. They agreed to keep in touch in the weeks before D-Day, to work out any kinks in their plan.

"Don' be callin me late at night for a booty call, Greenly, I already said I wasn't interested in you or your well hung brother." Chrys jokingly called behind her before getting into the back seat of their car.

"Wait, well hung? What?" Greenly was confused now. It didn't take him long to realize she was just trying to get him into more trouble. He looked pleadingly at Connor and Murphy, who were now glaring at him. "Aw guys, c'mon!"

Connor pointed at the tall, dark haired detective. "You're gonna get it." He said. "Aye. Time for some good ole' fashioned ass kicking." Murphy agreed, and they began toward him, but before they could launch their assault, Chrys rolled down the window.

"Oh get your jealous asses over here so we can go home already!"


	24. Lasagna with teeth

"_In the weeks before Giuseppe Yakavetta's trial date, the streets of South Boston have been strangely quiet, and devoid of any organized criminal activity; until approximately 2:45 this morning"_

Chrysanthemum's ears perked up and her eyes, still fuzzy from an attempt at an afternoon nap, fluttered open. She propped herself up on her elbows, focusing her eyes and ears on the news broadcast, and trying not to awaken Connor or Murphy, who were strewn all over her on the couch.

"_-in what seemed to be an attempt to make it look like some sort of accident as a result of yesterday's severe thunderstorm. However, police recovered evidence that points to Concezio Yakavetta, Giuseppe's son and only heir to the crime syndicate allegedly run by his father."_

Chrys watched the man in the suit talk without really hearing what he was saying anymore; the proverbial wheels in her head had begun to turn. Connor snorted in his sleep and his head fell onto her chest, causing Murphy to twitch in his sleep as well. _My two beautiful Irish angels._ She thought, smiling to herself and watching her lovers sleep as she ironed out the wrinkles in her plan. Was she really willing to risk messing things up for them with only a few days left before the trial?

If they were able to get in and out quick it wouldn't be such a big deal. They could find out where Concezio was located from their team at the BPD, anthen…Poppa Joe wouldn't get in the way, he was in Protective Custody at the Suffolk County Sheriff's Department because he was a flight risk, so there was no bail posted. Killing Concezio would be the perfect way to avenge Rocco. Getting rid of Pappa Joe himself would be satisfying, no doubt about that, but Chrys wanted him to _really_ suffer; she didn't want him to feel as awful as she had when she'd awoken to her friend's murdered body, she wanted him to feel worse. She lay back down on the couch where she had been and pressed the off button on the remote control. Snuggling her face into Murphy's sweatshirt, she closed her eyes to finish her nap, deciding that she would bring her plan up to them later in the evening when they all awoke.

_Okay maybe this wasn't such a good idea. _The boys had completely accepted Chrys' idea to take out Concezio, and Connor was even a little miffed that he hadn't thought of it himself. In one afternoon they had concocted a plan with the help of Smecker and the others, who were able to give them the down-low on where Conzezio and the men who were assigned to protect him were located. Noah opted out of the hit, saying it had been a long time since he'd been able to just relax and have some time to himself, after being locked up in Hoag for so long. "You three stay out of trouble, yeh hear?" He called to them as they walked out of the house and down the street.

Now Chrys sat crouched next to Greenly, clutching her gun so tightly that her knuckles were turning white and creaking angrily at her. "You alright?" He whispered to her, sensing her frazzled nerves. She swallowed and nodded. She was a little apprehensive, but very excited at the same time. This was going to her first time seeing the boys in action and well, taking part in it. The boys were already around the back of the house and Dolly was crouched around the corner; he was supposed to signal Chrys and Greenly to bust in the front when the boys did so in the back. Duffy was waiting in the car.

After what seemed like an eternity but could only have been mere seconds, Dolly gave them the signal. Chrys' heart skipped a beat as she looked at Greenly and said "Here goes nothing." With a nod, they were off and up the pathway to the door. The scent of Heather bushes filled Chrys' nostrils as the adrenaline pumped through her veins. Without missing a beat, she kicked the door just above the handle and raised her gun as it swung open. In an instant she was in the middle of a battle royale, and her instincts took over. Connor and Murphy were shooting left and right in the living room; stuffing from pillows and shards of wood and glass flew through the air as she made her way through the foyer and into the hallway. Greenly was caught off-guard by a man who jumped seemingly from nowhere and attacked him. Chrys aimed and pulled the trigger twice, getting him once in the shoulder and again in the arm. He flailed before falling into a small table and shattering it as he went down. Greenly made his way toward the boys and Chrys took a left into a hallway with three doors. There were two guys waiting for her with guns drawn. She quickly ducked down as the bullets flew at her, then counter-attacked and shot them both in the knees. They were down in an instant, and wouldn't be back up for a long while. It was clear to her that Concezio hadn't been located yet. _Where is the bastard?_ She thought, coming up to the first door on the right and shouldering it open. She pointed her gun around the empty room and cursed.

"Where is he you fuck?" She heard someone shout from the living room. Most of the shooting had stopped, but she heard yelling and bodies hitting the floor. The next door flew open and a mean looking Italian woman came out of it and came at Chrys with a knife. Chrys screamed in surprise and pulled the trigger without aiming, getting the woman in the leg. She wailed and fell into the dog-pile of injured mobsters on the floor. Chrys kicked the last door in the hallway open and stepped inside. It was dark, but she heard whimpering. She swung her arm to the right and ran it along the wall until she found a light switch, and flipped it on. There was a girl tied to a chair in the center of the room, blindfolded and gagged. Moving quickly, Chrys went to the girl and took off her blindfold, then removed the gag. The girl's eyes were wide with terror. She couldn't have been a day over 18. "Please help me! I've got to get out of here! They-"

"Shhhsh, sweety. Just tell me where Yakavetta is and I'll help you get out of here." Chrys said, attempting to quell the fears of the frightened girl.

"N-n-no! You don't understand! There's a bomb in the basement! They knew you were coming! Please, we have to get out now, the guy you're looking for isn't here!"

Chrys' head was spinning as she cut the rope that tied the girl to her chair. When she was free, she sprang off toward the door without so much as a thank you or a backward glance at Chrys. _Fuck._ She spun on her heel and ran to the living room, gun in hand and began screaming for the boys to get out. "What the fuck are you talking about?" Murphy yelled as she skidded to a stop in front of him. "We have to fucking get out, there's a bomb in the basement! Concezio's not here, it's a set up!"

"Shit." Both Connor and Murphy cursed in unison before grabbing Chrys by her arms and rushing toward the back door, with Greenly and Dolly following suit. They were barely out the door when Chrys felt a rush of hot air, and pieces of glass and other debris flying at her back. She covered her head and fell to the ground; the twins fell protectively on top of her. _This is all my fault._

Everyone made it out alright, but Chrys was livid that the Italians had discovered her plan before she'd had the chance to put a bullet in Concezio Yakavetta. She wouldn't have another chance after the trial hit; they were leaving for Ireland the following morning. She would just have to settle for the death of Pappa Joe to be enough justice for Rocco.

"You did a good job the other day, Chrys." Connor spoke up and snapped her out of her head. She shook her head and glared down at her face reflected back at her from her coffee. "He's right." Murphy added, cigarette in hand. "If it weren't for you, there'd be nothin' left of us but a pile of lasagna with teeth." Chrys couldn't help but laugh at Murphy's disgusting metaphor. He kissed her on the hand. "That's my girl." He said, beaming at her. Connor nodded and took a swig of his own coffee. It was early and they were preparing themselves for the ordeal that was ahead of them. It wasn't going to be an easy task, but they would make it work. She smiled and raised her generic white mug. "To David." She said. The twins looked at each other, then back at her before raising their mugs as well and chiming "To David." They all clinked cups and took their last swig of coffee before the trial.

Chrys glared at Papa Joe through her dark sunglasses. She sat in the closest row to the floor in her black dress and over-sized hat, posing as a family member of one of his victims. Her guns were in her purse, which Duffy had gotten through the metal detectors for her. He now sat next to her, posing as her husband. "You will demonstrate order in my courtroom." The judge said, in an authoritative tone. It was all a ruse, though. That was the same judge that had acquitted Yakavetta two times in the past two years already. He was in the Italian family's proverbial pocket. When Chrys heard a faint beeping noise, she looked over at Duffy, who glanced at the screen of his cell phone, then looked back at her and nodded. "It's time." He whispered, looking a little frightened.

Chrys smiled and her heart began to race as she whipped her sunglasses and hat off, exposing her long, red tresses. She then grabbed the guns out of her bag and hopped the wooden barrier between her and the open floor of the courtroom. People gasped and shouted as she walked to the middle of the floor and aimed her guns at the audience. _They sure are in for a show today. _ "Get Down!" She screamed, before Noah, Connor, and Murphy MacManus busted in through the doors behind her.


	25. Goodbye

"Cut that shit out, it fuckin' burns, alright!"

Chrys slapped Connor's hand away from his head, now wet with black hair dye.

"You're such a fuckin' baby." She said, massaging the gooey mixture into his head, making sure she didn't miss any of his hair. "Always 'ave been." Murphy added. They had just rinsed the dye out of his now honey colored hair. Connor glared daggers at his brother while Chrysanthemum and Murphy laughed it up at his expense. "You just wait till I get outta this chair." He said, pointing a finger at his twin.

Chrys quieted him down with a kiss on the cheek, making Murphy grumble in jealousy and walk out of the bathroom and into the den of the safe house. Noah and Smecker were busy packing everything away and getting ready for their flight, which was taking off at 6am. It was midnight now; none of them had gotten any sleep since that afternoon's events took place. They'd all been too jazzed up over their victory, and there was so much to do anyways, before they left for Ireland. Chrys couldn't wait to see her homeland again. She had missed it from the moment she had set foot in Boston all that time ago. She was going to miss everyone, of course. Doc, the regulars at the bar, all the goobers from the BPD...but she had an itching feeling she'd see them all again one day. Maybe they could come down to Ireland for Thanksgiving one year.

Chrys was just pulling her white dress with yellow sunflowers on it when her wig fell off into a heap on the floor. Connor laughed at her from the doorway, looking weirdly debonair with his now ebony slicked forward hair. She grumbled and threw her sandal at him. "Oh, shut it, will yeh." She said, before picking the fallen hairpiece up and righting it onto her head in the mirror. She secured it with a couple of bobby pins and brushed the bangs out so they didn't look frizzy. "Are yeh ready now, Pippy Longstockins? Murphy said, looking like a surfer dude, complete with douchey aviators, and chewing on a toothpick. She rolled her eyes and headed toward the door. "Pippy has red braids, not brown. And hers stick out."

"Aye yay yay, tomato to-fuckin-mahto." Connor said, shoving her playfully toward the front door. Chrys hugged Greenly, Duffy, Dolly, and finally, Smecker, before everyone said their goodbyes. "I'll miss you all, yeh bunch o' retards." She said, standing on her toes to muss Greenly's hair. "Yeah, yeah, we'll miss you too, Chrys."

"Alright, alright. Lets break this up before it turns into a friggin' sob fest." Smecker interjected. "Everything is taken care of, all of your baggage aside from your carry-on has been sent back to Ireland already on a cargo plane so you guys don't spend any more time in the terminal than you have to." He paused and smiled at them. "You guys take care of each other, okay?" he finished, still smiling.

"Aye." Connor and Murphy chimed, and Chrys just nodded. She feared if she said anything she might start crying. She hated crying in front of people, especially for silly reasons. After final hugs, handshakes, and see you laters, Chry, the twins, and Noah all got into the cab that had been waiting for them on the curb and headed toward the airport.

Murphy and Connor watched the gray, building-laden scenery go past and ached for the green hills and trees of their home they would see soon enough. Chrys rested her head on Connor's shoulder, clasped both the twins' hands in hers, and closed her eyes. She had almost drifted off to sleep to The Smiths cooing away on the taxi's radio. She hummed along softly to the words. "_And if a ten ton truck kills the both of us, to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die" _were the last words she heard before a black sedan crashed into the driver's side of the taxi they were in.

Chrys opened her eyes and realized she was upside down. Adrenaline kicked in and her heart started pounding against her ribcage. She unbuckled her seat belt and crashed to the ground beneath her. She felt glass cutting into her back as she scrambled around onto her knees. She could see enough into what was left of the front seat to be able to tell that the driver didn't have much of a body left. She stifled back gore induced vomit and turned around to see that Murphy and Noah had come to and were both trying to get out of their seat belts. Murphy saw that she was beneath them and said "Get out of the car now! Don't worry 'bout us three, we'll get ourselves out." She nodded and scrambled toward the mangled metal that used to be a window frame, and squeezed her head and shoulders out. Someone roughly grabbed one of her arms and yanked her the rest of the way. "Ow!" She yelled, but was grateful that they had helped her so she added "Thank you-" but stopped when she realized that the person who had yanked her out was now standing in front of her with a gun pointed at her face. She recognized him immediately and raised her hands in defeat. There was hate in his dark eyes, and though she wasn't sorry for what they had done yesterday, she didn't blame him. Onlookers were screaming and fumbling with their cell phones to try and call the police.

"This is for my Father." He said, the acidity in his tone clearly audible. "Il mio Padre." Chrys didn't dare move. She cut her eyes to behind Concezio Yakavetta's shoulder, where a man was running toward him. "Concezio, don't!" He cried, but the venomous Italian had already pulled the trigger.

Pain ripped through the whole left side of Chrys' body, and she fell down onto the hot asphalt. Her hand clutched her chest as she watched her assailant and the man who had tried to stop him drive away in their mangled sedan with increasingly blurred vision. There was blood all around her, and she felt startlingly cold for such a warm day. She heard her name being called from behind her and tried to say "What?", but it only came out as a whisper. She felt hands all over her, and thought it was weird because it reminded her of that scene in that Labyrinth movie when Sarah falls into that pit full of hands. She closed her eyes and decided to take a nap, because she felt so tired all of a sudden, but she couldn't quite get to sleep because she kept hearing sirens all around her.


	26. Home is Where the Heart is

Being back in Ireland wasn't all it had cracked up to be for the boys; at least so far. The cottage was in shambles when they returned, and so many things had changed in the time they had been abroad. The scenery was different, familiar shops had closed down and newer ones opened their doors to the public, bringing in new faces as well. The Anvil was still around, However; it had changed a bit now that it was sans Wilson. A lot of the townsfolk agreed that under Sibeal MacManus' management it had changed for the better, being that he was also an ordained minister, and business was up that year to boot. Connor and Murphy hadn't had a chance to stop by since they had returned though; they'd had a lot of cleaning house to do, mentally and physically. But the cooler summer weather here made it much easier to ease back into rural life that August; they'd all be baking if they were still in Boston.

The twins bought a few new things for the cottage, including a television, albeit a crappy one. The two of them sat together on the overstuffed couch with their feet propped up on the hand-carved coffee table in front of them. Their father would have had a cow if he'd seen them sullying his work with their dirty boots. He was in the back yard, passing his time playing carpenter; skills left over from years ago, passed down to him by his father. Aside from making some new furniture for the house, he was able to make some decent money by selling a few of his pieces.

A futbol match had just gone into overtime while Connor and Murphy watched the players dash up and down the field, Murphy with an unlit cigarette hanging out of his mouth and Connor sipping a warming beer. Connor's features were squished as he stared at the TV, not really mentally digesting what was going on in front of him; his brows were furrowed together in discontent. Murphy glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, wondering why his brother seemed in such sour spirits today. He nodded to get Connor's attention and grabbed the cigarette out of his mouth so he could speak clearly. "What crawled up your arse and bit yeh?"

Connor took another swig of his beer and glanced toward the door, then back at the television set, salty look never leaving his face. He shrugged. "I don'e know." He grumbled. Murphy rolled his eyes and punched his brother in the shoulder. "Stop being such a-"

"I just fuckin' miss her, alright!" Connor burst up out of his seat, knocking his empty bottle to the floor. Murphy only looked down and nodded, then returned the cigarette to his mouth, letting the conversation lie. Connor fell back down into a sitting position, not saying another word. There was nothing else to say.

Murphy laughed all of a sudden, and Connor's head whipped toward him angrily. "What the fuck is so fuckin' funny?" he spat, but Murphy only returned his glare with a bewildered visage. "That wasn' fuckin' me." He mumbled through his cigarette. They both turned around to face the back door and their mouths dropped open.

Chrys beamed at them from the back of the house and burst out laughing again, bending over and clutching her sides. "You guys really are a useless mess without me!" she said, walking toward them and brushing faux tears from her eyes. "Look at this mess!" She said, motioning to the vast array of litter on the floor. "I was only gone for the weekend, and I was at the Buckley's, not in Bangladesh!" She leaned over the couch and kissed them both on top of their heads. Connor's face flushed, he was embarrassed that she'd heard his little outburst.

"I thought you were supposed to be gone another day?" Murphy said, pulling her from the other side of the couch and onto their laps. She shrugged. "The ewe wasn't in labor for that long, surprisingly. They didn't end up needing me any longer."

"So when do we get to bring the little lambs home?" Connor asked, snatching Murphy's fallen fag and putting it his own mouth, then lit it. Murphy gave him an evil stare, to which Connor merely shrugged as if to say "_You snooze, you loose"._

"They should be ready to come away from their mother in four or so weeks. They're giving us two females and one male so we'll have more than enough to start up with. We'll be sheering 'em in no time." She said, nuzzling her head into Murphy's neck.

Connor snubbed out the half smoked tar and went to kiss her neck, being careful of the scar tissue around her left shoulder. She'd been lucky, because the bullet had gone right through. It punctured her lung and missed her heart by inches. If Concezio hadn't been distracted by the other man calling to him, he would have gotten her in the head, where he'd originally been aiming.

But none of that mattered anymore. Not the pain of almost losing the most important person in their world, not the holes inside of them all that was left by the death of their best friend, not even the sinking feeling that they wouldn't be able to lay low back home forever. The only thing that mattered was that they were all alive, all reunited, all together as a family; however unconventional.

Chrysanthemum's mouth tweaked into the shape of a soft smile as she drifted off to sleep that night, cocooned between her rough and tumble twin lovers, thinking that even though so much shit had been thrown at her in her life, in spite of everything she'd lived through these last few years, she wouldn't trade one damn moment of it for anything; and at long last they were all back where they belonged.

_**-Fini-**_


End file.
